THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


By  LADY  GREGORY 

Drama 

SEVEN  SHORT  PLAYS. 
FOLK-HISTORY  PLAYS.      2  VOLS. 
NEW  COMEDIES. 
THE  GOLDEN  APPLE. 
THE  DRAGON. 
OUR  IRISH  THEATRE.     A  CHAPTER 

OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
THE  KILTARTAN  MOLIERE. 
THE  IMAGE  AND  OTHER  PLAYS. 
THREE  WONDER  PLAYS. 

Irish  Folk-Lore  and  Legend 

VISIONS  AND  BELIEFS.     2  VOLS. 
CUCHULAIN  OF  MURITHEMNE. 
GODS  AND  FIGHTING  MEN. 
SAINTS  AND  WONDERS. 
POETS  AND  DREAMERS. 
THE  KILTARTAN  POETRY  BOOK. 
THE  KILTARTAN  HISTORY  BOOK. 


HUGH  LANE'S  LIFE  AND  ACHIEVE- 
MENT, WITH  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF 
THE  DUBLIN  GALLERIES. 


The  Image 

and  Other  Plays 


By 

Lady  Gregory 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 

Cbc    "Knickerbocker    press 
1922 


Copyright,    1933 

by 
Augusta,  Lady  Gregory 

Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


These  plays  have  been  copyrighted  in  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain. 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into  foreign  languages. 

All  acting  rights,  both  professional  and  amateur,  are  reserved  in  the 
United  States,  Great  Britain,  and  all  countries  of  the  Copyright  Union,  by 
the  author.  Performances  are  forbidden  and  right  of  presentation  is 
reserved. 

Application  for  the  right  of  performing  these  plays  or  reading  them  in 
public  should  be  made  to  Samuel  French,  28  West  38th  St.,  New  York 
City,  or  36  South  Hampton  St.,  Strand,  London. 


College 
Library 


CONTENTS 

PACE 

THE  IMAGE  .......  i 

HANRAHAN'S  OATH         .         .         .         .  101 

SHANWALLA  .......  135 

THE  WRENS          ......  225 


572033 

THEATRE  ARTS 


THE  IMAGE:  A  PLAY 
IN  THREE  ACTS 


WHEN  THIS  PLAY  WAS  FIRST  PRINTED 
ELEVEN  YEARS  AGO  I  DEDICATED  IT  "TO 
MY  NEPHEWS  HUGH  LANE  AND  JOHN 
SHAWE-TA  YLOR,  I  MAGE- MAKERS,"  AS  I  NOW 
DO  TO  THEIR  DEAR  MEMORY. 


PERSONS 

THOMAS  COPPINGER         .        A  Stonecutter. 

His  Wife. 

A  Mountainy  Man. 
A  Small  Farmer. 
A  Seaweed  Hawker. 
Old  Midwife. 


MARY  COPPINGER     . 
MALACHI  NAUGHTON 
BRIAN  HOSTY    . 
DARBY  COSTELLO 
PEGGY  MAHON 
PETER  MANNION 


A  Carrier. 


THE   IMAGE 

ACT  I 

Scene:  A  village  street  with  a  thatched  house  on 
either  side,  both  whitewashed,  one  very  poor. 
Grey  sea  and  grey  hills  seen  beyond  a  wall  of 
loose  stones.  Some  headstones  are  propped 
against  the  wall,  one  inscribed  "ERECTED  FOR 
THOMAS  COPPINGER  AND  POSTERITY."  Cop- 
pinger  is  looking  at  it.  Mrs.  Coppinger,  with 
her  back  to  him,  is  looking  out  over  wall. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Putting  out  clothes  to  dry  on 
the  wall.}  If  we  heard  noises  in  the  night  time  I 
heard  a  great  silence  now.  I  was  looking  out  to 
see  what  was  it  ailed  the  place.  What  has  hap- 
pened all  the  neighbours  I  wonder  ? 

Coppinger:  I  was  wondering  that  myself.  I 
don't  see  Brian  Hosty  or  Darby  Costello  in  any 
place,  or  anyone  at  all  only  Malachi  Naughton, 
the  crazy  mountainy  man,  is  coming  hither  from 
the  strand. 

(He  sits  down  and  chips  at  headstone.) 
5 


6  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  is  a  queer  thing  you  to  be 
content,  Thomas  Coppinger,  and  you  knocking 
out  a  living  among  the  dead.  It  is  no  way  con- 
tent I  myself  would  be,  and  to  be  following  a  trade 
that  is  all  for  gloom. 

Coppinger:  It  is  not,  but  in  the  world  wide 
there  is  not  so  lively  or  so  pleasant  a  trade.  Wait 
now  till  I'll  sound  that  out  to  you.  A  man  to  be  a 
herd  now,  and  to  be  sent  back  out  of  the  fair  with 
beasts,  the  very  time  the  sport  would  begin,  or  to 
be  landing  fish  from  a  hooker  and  to  be  made  take 
the  tide  at  the  very  minute  maybe  the  crowds 
would  be  gathering  for  a  race,  or  an  assizes,  or  a 
thing  of  the  kind,  it  is  downhearted  you  would  be 
coming  into  your  own  little  place,  and  all  the  stir 
left  after  you.  But  to  be  turning  back  from  a  bury- 
ing, and  you  living,  and  all  that  company  lying 
dumb,  and  the  rain  coming  down  through  the  clay 
over  their  heads,  and  their  friends  crying  them, 
that  is  the  time  your  own  little  cabin  would  shine 
out  as  good  as  a  wake  house,  in  the  time  a  wake 
house  was  all  one  with  a  dance  house. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  That  is  not  so  in  this  place. 
No  playing  or  funning  or  springing,  but  to  be  talk- 
ing they  do  be,  stupid  talk  about  themselves  and 
to  be  smoking  tobacco. 

Coppinger:  And  another  thing.  It  is  very 
answerable  to  the  soul  to  be  always  letting  your 


The  Image  7 

mind  dwell  on  them  that  are  gone  to  dust  and 
to  ashes,  and  to  be  thinking  how  short  they  were 
in  the  world,  and  to  be  striving  to  put  yourself 
in  terror  of  eternity.  "Vanity  of  vanities,"  said 
King  Solomon,  and  he  owning  all  his  riches  and  his 
own  seven  hundred  wives. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It's  time  for  you  give  in  to 
my  asking,  and  to  bring  me  away  to  the  States, 
and  the  work  all  wore  away  from  you,  the  way 
you  have  no  earthly  thing  to  put  your  hand  to 
but  that  headstone  of  your  own.  There  doesn't 
be  so  many  wakes  as  there  were,  or  so  many  bury- 
ings,  or  the  half  of  the  people  in  the  world  that 
there  used  to  be. 

Coppinger:  The  headland  is  a  very  whole- 
some place,  without  killing  or  murdering,  and 
the  youngsters  all  go  foreign,  and  in  my  opin- 
ion the  dead  are  nearly  all  dead  —  unless  it 
might  be  old  Peggy  Mahon  within  in  the  house 
beyond. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  With  all  the  children  she 
brought  home  to  the  world,  and  all  the  women 
she  saved  from  being  brought  away,  she  is  near 
spun  out  herself.  There  are  some  would  give 
the  world  to  be  gone  altogether  with  the  state 
she  is  in.  And  it's  time  for  her  to  go  anyway. 
Cross  she  is  and  peevish,  and  in  troth  she'd  be 
no  great  loss. 


8  The  Image 

Coppinger:  Let  you  not  be  talking  that  way. 
It  never  was  a  habit  of  my  habits  to  wish  any 
harm  to  a  neighbour,  or  to  call  down  misfortune 
on  them  at  all. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It's  a  poor  job  to  be  lettering 
out  your  own  name  and  for  no  profit.  And  you 
should  be  near  done  by  this  anyway.  ' '  In  memory 
of  Thomas  Coppinger  and  Posterity."  What  is 
there  to  put  to  that  but  the  day  of  your  death, 
that  it  would  fail  you  to  have  foreknowledge  of, 
and  the  day  it's  likely  you  have  no  remembrance 
of,  that  you  made  your  own  start  on  the  plains  of 
this  world 

Coppinger:  That  is  not  enough.  That  is 
what  has  to  be  put  on  the  slab  of  many  a  common 
man,  where  he  did  no  big  thing,  or  never  stretched 
a  hand  to  the  poor. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  And  what  will  there  be  to 
write  on  your  own  slab,  more  than  that  you  lived 
and  died  on  the  Munster  side  of  the  headland  of 
Druim-na-Cuan,  and  knocked  out  a  poor  way  of 
living,  hammering  at  hard  stones  ? 

Coppinger:  No  fear  of  me  being  left  that  way. 
Some  thing  will  come  to  pass.  Some  great  man 
might  come  wanting  a  monument  that  would 
put  up  my  name  for  ever.  Some  man  so  great 
his  death  would  put  away  laughter  in  Ireland. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Ah!  If  it  is  waiting  you  are 
for  such  a  one  to  die,  sure  you  don't  know  is  he 


The  Image  9 

born  at  all  yet,  or  his  father  or  his  grandfather, 
or  at  what  time  he  might  be  born  through  the 
next  two  thousand  years.  You  are  talking  as 
wild  as  a  dream  might  fall  upon  you  in  the  night 
time. 

Coppinger:    There  is  dreams  and  dreams.    And 

at  every  thousand  years  some  great  thing  is  apt  to 

happen,  such  as  the  Deluge  or  the  coming  of  the 

Milesians  into  Ireland — I  tell  you  there  is  dreams 

and  dreams.    (Turns  and  chips  away  at  headstone.') 

(Malachi  comes  in  slowly  L.  and  blinks  at 

them.} 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Well,  Malachi  Naughton, 
God  bless  your  health,  and  what's  the  best  news 
with  you?  You  have  the  appearance  of  getting 
bad  nourishment.  They  were  telling  me  your 
hens  were  all  ate  with  the  fox.  I  wonder  now  you 
wouldn't  quit  the  mountain  side,  and  come  make 
your  dwelling  in  some  place  there  would  be  com- 
pany. 

Malachi:  The  towns  do  be  in  uproar  and  do  be 
crowded,  and  the  roads  do  be  wet  and  wide;  and 
as  to  the  villages,  there  is  spies  in  them,  and 
traitors,  and  people  you  wouldn't  like  to  be  talking 
with.  Too  venomous  they  are  and  too  corrupted 
with  drink.  I'd  like  to  keep  my  own  company, 
and  I  to  have  no  way  of  living  but  the  berries  of 
the  bush. 


io  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  There  is  no  crowd  in  this  place 
to-day,  and  no  person  at  all  to  be  heard  or  to  be 
seen. 

Malachi:  That  wasn't  so  a  while  ago.  (Turn- 
ing to  Coppinger.)  Tell  me,  Thomas  Coppinger, 
did  you  hear  e'er  a  noise  in  the  night  time? 

Coppinger:  What  way  wouldn't  I  hear  it? 
Thunder  it's  likely  it  was  that  was  breaking  from 
the  clouds  and  from  the  skies,  the  same  as  it  did 
ere  yesterday,  the  time  the  Kerry  men's  hooker 
was  destroyed  out  from  Gal  way.  It's  likely  the 
weather  will  cheer  up  now,  the  thunder  having 
brought  away  the  venom  out  of  the  air. 

Malachi:  The  clouds  of  the  air  had  no  hand  in 
it  at  all.  Thunder  is  natural.  I  tell  you  it  is  more 
than  thunder  came  visiting  this  place  last  night. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I  was  thinking  myself  it  was 
no  thunder.  It  was  more  like  the  roaring  of  calves, 
or  the  drowning  of  hundreds,  or  all  the  first  cousins 
coming  racing  with  their  cars  to  a  wedding  after 
dark. 

Coppinger:  (Rises  and  looks  over  wall. )  Have  it 
your  own  way  so.  I'll  go  meet  Brian  and  Darby, 
and  they'll  tell  you  was  it  thunder.  I  see  Brian 
coming  hither  over  the  ridge  is  above  the  cliffs. 
Have  you  my  boots  cleaned,  Mary,  till  I'll  put 
them  on  to  my  feet  ? 

(He  goes  into  house.} 


The  Image  n 

Malachi:  It  was  no  thunder  was  in  it,  but  the 
night  that  was  full  of  signs  and  of  wonders. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  What  is  it  makes  you  say 
that  ?  I  didn't  see  any  wonder  you'd  call  a  wonder. 
It's  likely  it  is  in  your  own  head  the  wonders  were. 

Malachi:  A  little  bird  of  a  cock  I  have,  that 
started  crowing  in  the  dark  hour  of  the  night, 
the  same  as  if  the  dawn  had  come  and  put  him 
in  mincl  of  Denmark. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  A  cock  to  crow  out  of  season 
is  no  great  wonder,  and  he  to  be  perched  on  the 
rafters,  and  you  maybe  to  be  turning  yourself  on 
your  palliasse,  that  would  be  creaking  with  the  na- 
ture of  the  straw. 

Malachi:  Great  noises  I  heard  after  that,  as 
if  of  tearing  and  splashing  and  roaring  through 
the  tide. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I  heard  them  myself  as  good 
as  you.  I  was  in  dread  it  might  be  the  day  of 
judgment.  To  put  my  head  in  under  the  quilt 
I  did,  till  such  time  as  it  had  passed  away. 

Malachi:  It  was  not  quieted  till  after  the 
whitening  of  the  dawn  in  the  skies.  I  went  out 
at  that  time  thinking  to  see  the  goat  that  was  up 
to  her  kidding  time,  and  she  had  the  rope  broke, 
and  the  stone  thrust  away  that  was  in  the  door 
of  the  little  pen  I  had  made,  and  there  was  no 
sight  or  mind  of  her. 


12  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Is  it  searching  after  her  yet 
you  are,  or  did  you  find  her  gone  astray  among 
the  rocks? 

Malachi:  Down  by  the  brink  of  the  sea  I 
found  her,  a  place  she  never  was  apt  to  go,  and 
two  young  kids  beside  her,  she  that  never  had  but 
the  one  before ;  and  more  than  that  again 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  You'll  be  in  Heaven,  she  to 
have  kidded,  the  way  you'll  have  a  drop  of  milk 
with  your  tea. 

Malachi:  Two  young  kids  beside  her  on  the  salt 
edge  of  the  tide,  and  she  chewing  neither  dulse,  or 
carrageen,  or  seaweed,  but  lying  in  full  content, 
and  as  if  browsing  upon  a  little 'bit  of  a  board. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Goats  will  eat  all.  There  was 
a  neighbour's  goat  mounted  up  on  my  own  dresser 
one  time,  and  made  as  if  to  devour  the  blessed 
palm  was  on  the  wall. 

Malachi:  Did  ever  you  hear  up  to  this,  Mrs. 
Coppinger,  a  beast  to  have  got  nourishment  from 
a  board  ? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I  did  to  be  sure.  Isn't  it  the 
way  the  body  of  Blessed  Columcille  was  tracked 
the  time  it  was  sent  back  across  the  sea  to  Ireland 
for  its  burying?  To  sculpture  directions  on  a  stick 
they  did,  and  it  was  a  cow  went  licking  it  the  time 
it  was  come  to  land.  It  is  likely  you  heard  that 
yourself? 


The  Image  13 

Malachi:  (Going  to  her  and  drawing  a  board 
from  under  his  ragged  shirt.}  You  that  can  read 
writing,  ma'am,  sound  out  to  me  now  the  testi- 
mony is  on  that  board. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  So  there  is  a  name  on  it  in 
painted  printing — H,  H,  u,  g,  h — Hugh — Hueh 
O'Lorrha. 

Malachi:  Hugh  O'Lorrha — I  was  thinking, 
and  I  was  near  certain,  the  time  I  saw  the  letters 
it  was  the  name  of  some  person  was  in  it,  that 
had  sent  some  message  into  my  hand.  Tell  me 
now,  ma'am,  have  you  any  account  at  all,  or  did 
ever  you  hear  it  told  who  was  Hugh  O'Lorrha? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  seems  to  me  to  have  heard 
such  a  name,  but  I  can  put  no  face  to  it  or  no 
account.  There's  many  things  I  forgot  that  I 
heard  in  my  lifetime.  I  only  recollect  things  in  the 
broad.  (Shades  her  eyes  and  looks  out  over  wall.} 

Malachi:  There  should  be  some  meaning  in  it 
and  some  message.  No  doubt  about  it  at  all,  it 
was  a  night  full  of  wonders — Down  in  the  tide 
there  to  be  the  noise  as  of  hundreds,  the  bird  in 
the  rafters  making  its  own  outcry,  and  its  call — 
the  goat  to  be  bringing  me  to  that  bit  of  a  board — 
Hugh  O'Lorrha,  that  should  be  a  very  high  sound- 
ing name.  What  it  is  at  all  he  is  calling  to  me,  and 
bidding  me  for  to  do  ? 

(Brian  Hosty  comes  in.} 


14  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Turning  to  door.}  Come  out 
here,  Thomas.  Here  is  Brian  Hosty  before  you. 

Coppinger:  (Coming  out.}  There  is  no  need  for 
me  go  seek  him  so.  Well,  now,  Brian,  didn't  you 
go  abroad  very  early  this  morning? 

Hosty:  It's  easy  rise  up  and  go  abroad  early 
the  time  there  does  disturbance  come,  that  will 
put  away  the  sleep  from  your  eyes. 

Coppinger:    You  heard  the  noises  so? 

Hosty:  What  would  ail  me  not  to  hear  them? 
You  would  hear  that  roaring  three  mile  off,  as 
well  as  you  would  hear  it  a  mile. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Was  it  a  fleet  of  seals  maybe 
was  coming  in  against  the  rough  weather  does  be 
prophesied  in  the  skies? 

Hosty:  Did  any  one  ever  hear  a  fleet  of  seals  to 
be  giving  out  a  sound  like  eight  eights  crying 
together,  or  like  the  seven  banshees  of  Lisheen 
Crannagh?  You  to  have  seen  those  two  beasts 
fighting  through  the  tide,  you  would  know  them 
not  to  be  seals.  Tearing  and  battling  they  were. 
At  the  time  they  commenced  roaring  I  went  out, 
and  Darby  Costello  rose  up  and  put  the  crowbar 
to  his  own  door,  in  dread  they  might  be  coming 
into  the  house. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Beasts  is  it?  Tell  me  now 
what  were  they  at  all. 


The  Image  15 

Hosty:  Whales  they  were — two  of  them — they 
never  quitted  fighting  one  another  till  they  came 
up  upon  the  strand,  and  the  salt  water  went  and 
left  them,  that  you  would  be  sorry  to  hear  them 
crying  and  moaning. 

Coppinger:  And  is  it  on  the  strand  they  are 
presently? 

Hosty:  They  are,  and  it  is  on  the  Connacht 
side  of  the  headland  they  took  their  station,  as 
was  right. 

Coppinger:  Take  care  but  the  tide  might  steal 
up  on  them.  But  I  suppose  they  are  dead  by  this? 

Hosty:  What  would  hinder  them  from  being 
dead?  I  am  after  going  where  they  are,  myself 
and  Darby  Costello.  To  cut  a  bit  off  of  one  of 
them  I  did.  The  flesh  of  it  was  like  the  dribbled 
snow,  the  same  as  a  pig  you  would  kill  and  would 
be  after  cleaning  out  for  hanging,  as  clean  and  as 
white  as  that.  And  as  for  size,  you  to  go  up  on 
them,  you  could  see  the  whole  of  Galway. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Would  you  say  there  to  be 
oil  in  them?  I  heard  in  some  place  the  oil  would  be 
rendered  out  of  a  whale  would  carry  a  big  price. 

Hosty:  Oil  is  it?  I  took  a  wisp  of  straw  and 
lighted  it  at  the  side  of  one  of  them,  and  the  oil 
of  it  went  out  into  the  sea,  and  never  mixing  with 
the  salt  water  at  all.  The  whole  of  the  lakes  of 
Ireland  and  the  wide  Shannon  along  with  them. 


1 6  The  Image 

there  is  enough  of  oil  in  those  two  whales  to  make  a 
scum  and  a  covering  over  the  whole  of  their  brim. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  That  now  is  maybe  the  luck, 
Thomas,  you  were  thinking  would  be  drawing 
towards  you.  Gather  now  all  the  vessels  in  the 
place  till  we'll  see  what  we  can  bring  away  of  oil. 
Here  now  is  the  tub,  and  the  big  pot,  and  the 
kettle. 

Hosty:  I  heard  one  time  there  was  a  doctor 
back  in  Connemara  gave  a  pound  a  gallon  for  the 
oil  was  rendered  out  of  a  whale.  To  cure  ulcers 
and  cancers  I  suppose  it  did,  the  same  as  king's 
blood  used  to  cure  the  evil. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  That's  a  whip  of  money! 
Let  me  see  can  I  empty  the  milk  out  of  the  churn. 
(Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coppinger  go  into  house.) 

Malachi:  (Coming  near.)  Whales?  Did  you 
say  it  was  whales  came  visiting  this  strand  in 
the  night  time? 

Hosty:    Amn't  I  after  saying  that  it  was? 

Malachi:  What  was  it  now  brought  those 
beasts  to  be  travelling  to  this  headland  more  than 
to  any  other  place,  and  to  find  their  own  track 
to  it  across  the  wide  ocean  ? 

Hosty:  What  would  bring  them  but  chance, 
or  ignorance  or  the  blindness  that  came  on  them 
with  the  strokes  they  were  striking  and  hitting 
at  one  another  under  the  waves. 


The  Image  17 

Malachi:  It  was  those  beasts  so,  brought  that 
name  and  that  board  of  timber.  Who  now  in 
the  wide  earthly  world  will  tell  me  who  was 
Hugh  O'Lorrha?  (Goes  off.} 

Hosty:  (To  Mrs.  Coppinger,  who  has  come  to 
door.)  What  at  all  is  Malachi  raving  about,  Mrs. 
Coppinger,  with  his  cracked  talk  and  his  question- 
ing? 

Mrs.  Coppinger.  Ah,  that  is  the  way  he  is,  and 
something  gone  queer  in  his  head.  There  is  noth- 
ing left  to  him  in  life  but  high  flighty  thoughts. 

Hosty:  (Looking  at  vessels.)  Well,  Mrs.  Cop- 
pinger, it's  a  share  of  the  good  things  of  the  world 
you  will  be  getting  this  time  surely.  It's  to  quit 
stone-cutting  you  will  bring  Thomas  Coppinger 
that  time. 

Coppinger:  (Leaning  out  over  door.)  No  fear  of 
me,  Brian.  Did  ever  you  find  east  or  west  any 
place  at  all  I  broke  my  word?  And  isn't  it  long 
I  promised  you  to  print  your  own  headstone  and 
to  dress  it  for  you,  the  time  your  end  would  be 
drawing  near? 

Hosty:  I'm  very  thankful  to  you,  Thomas.  I 
am  thinking  it  is  a  good  while  you  are  putting 
off  making  an  end  and  a  finish  of  your  own  slab. 

Coppinger:  There  is  reason  in  that,  I  am 
thinking  I  might  get  a  name  yet  would  look 
bigger  and  handsomer  on  my  tomb. 


i8  The  Image 

Hosty:  Whatever  way  you  may  write  out  your 
name  or  raise  it,  it  will  be  but  Thomas  Coppinger 
in  the  end. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  might  not.  Look  at  all 
that  voted  for  the  Parliament  going  from  College 
Green  to  England,  and  that  went  to  bed  nothing 
and  rose  up  lords  in  the  morning!  I  would  like 
well  Thomas  to  be  a  lord,  with  two  hundred  acres 
of  land. 

Hosty:  Well,  it's  the  people  of  Munster  are 
taken  up  in  themselves  with  pride  and  with  con- 
ceit !  My  joy  that  I  was  not  reared  among  them, 
but  in  the  bright  beautiful  province  of  Connacht ! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Let  you ,  keep  your  great 
praises  of  Connacht  and  your  talk  for  them  are 
the  other  side  of  the  earth  and  cannot  see  into  it, 
as  I  myself  can  see  it  over  the  mering  wall,  and  the 
fields  that  are  all  a  flag,  and  the  thistles  as  hardy 
as  our  own  and  as  bold.  It  is  not  here  I  myself 
would  wish  to  stop,  in  a  narrow  barren  place, 
where  you  never  would  get  your  fill  of  the  world's 
joy.  It's  out  to  America  I  would  go,  and  a  fair 
wind  blowing ! 

Hosty:  I  know  well  what  it  is  you  are  dreaming 
to  find  before  you  in  the  States — beer  from  Den- 
mark, honey  out  of  Greece ;  rings  and  brooches  and 
such  things  as  are  dear  to  women ;  high  blood  and 
grandeur  and  ringing  of  bells;  a  silver  cushion 


The  Image  19 

having  four  edges,  and  you  sitting  on  it  through 
the  day  time  the  same  as  the  Queen  of  Pride,  and 
talking  of  the  ways  of  the  world  and  the  war! 
But  remember  now  I  was  in  America  one  time 
myself ! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Why  wouldn't  there  be  gran- 
deurs and  good  houses  in  Boston  or  in  New  York 
where  many  a  bright  pound  was  spent  upon  them  ? 

Hosty:  All  the  grandeurs  I  saw  was  never  the  face 
of  a  fire  but  only  a  black  stove,  and  not  a  chimney 
in  the  house  but  only  a  crooked  pipe,  and  never  a 
spring  well  but  rotten  water  brought  from  the 
Lord  knows  where,  and  no  way  for  going  out  unless 
you  would  take  a  stroll  in  a  street  car.  And  if 
there  was  quality  food  I  didn't  see  it,  or  a  bit  of 
butter  that  was  sweet ! 

Coppinger:  (Leaning  in  the  half  door.}  Let  you 
leave  challenging  one  another,  and  look  at  Darby 
Costello  is  running  like  a  heifer  had  got  a  pick  of  a 
fly,  or  a  rat  there  would  be  strong  cats  following. 

Mrs.  Coppinger.  (Jumps  up.}  Ask  him  what 
will  he  do  with  his  share  of  the  oil,  and  see  will  he 
be  able  to  make  a  choice,  besides  putting  insults  on 
his  next-door  neighbour ! 

(Costello  runs  in  breathless.} 

Hosty:  Tell  me  now  what  will  be  your  own 
choice  thing  out  of  the  spending  and  the  profit 
of  the  oil? 


20  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Let  you  choose  some  big 
thing  will  set  you  free  from  drawing  seaweed 
till  the  day  of  judgment ! 

Costello:  I  am  striving  to  tell  you  that  the 
whales 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Tell  us  out  quick  now,  what 
is  your  desire  and  your  choice. 

Costello:  Ah,  now,  what  is  my  desire  but  peace 
and  patience  and  to  give  no  offence,  or  have  any 
one  annoying  me,  but  there  to  be  no  law  but  love — 
and  if  I  have  another  thing  to  ask  it  is  leave  to 
make  my  voice  heard  for  one  minute  only,  till 
you'll  hear  what  I'm  striving  to  tell 

Coppinger:  A  pound  a  gallon  we  are  to  get  out 
of  the  oil !  It's  the  whole  of  us  will  get  our  chance ! 

Costello:  Ah,  quit  talking  till  I'll  tell  you—  It 
is  little  profit  you  will  be  getting  for  yourselves, 
where  the  whole  country  entirely  is  gathered  at 
this  time  about  the  whales.  In  boats  they  are 
come  from  every  side.  Drawing  lots  for  strips  of 
them  they  are,  the  same  as  if  they  were  seaweed 
on  the  sand. 

Hosty:  They  have  no  call  to  them  at  all!  It 
is  we  ourselves  were  the  first  to  find  them  and 
to  put  our  mark  upon  their  skin.  Did  you  stand 
up  to  them  telling  them  that  ? 

Costello:  It  isn't  easy  stand  up  to  a  throng  of 
them.  From  Oranmore  they  are  come  I  tell  you 


The  Image  21 

and  from  Finevara  and  Duras  and  Ballindereen. 
The  Kerry  men  were  wrecked  in  the  hooker  were 
in  it  along  with  them,  very  wicked  looking  they 
were. 

Hosty:  They  have  no  claim  at  all  to  be  coming 
to  our  headland  and  to  be  bringing  away  our  prey. 

Costello:  I  was  striving  to  say  that  much  to 
them,  fair  and  civil;  and  the  face  they  put  on 
themselves  was  not  the  face  of  a  friend  would  be 
drinking  porter  with  you,  but  of  an  enemy  would 
be  coming  at  you  with  a  gun.  To  fire  a  stone  at 
me  a  one  of  them  did,  and  they  wouldn't  leave  me 
till  now  in  the  living  world  if  I  didn't  run.  There 
were  rocks  threw  after  me  all  the  length  of  the 
road. 

(Mrs.  Coppinger  goes  into  house.} 

Hosty:  Give  me  a  hold  of  a  reaping  hook  till 
I'll  go  sweep  them  before  me  from  where  they 
are,  and  drive  them  under  the  sway  of  the  living 
fishes  of  the  sea ! 

Coppinger:  (Picking  up  tools.}  It  is  with  my 
own  hammer  and  my  chisel  I  will  tackle  them! 
Leave  your  hand  on  a  fork,  Darby,  or  a  spade,  or 
so  much  as  a  big  wattle  of  a  stick ;  and  let  one  of  ye 
be  humming  Lord  Byron's  march,  and  he  going  out 
to  war ! 

Hosty:  We'll  put  terror  on  them!  We'll 
banish  them ! 


22  The  Image 

Costello:  (Sitting  down.)  Devil  a  fear  of  me! 
I  had  my  enough,  thinking  as  I  did  that  I  had  not 
three  minutes  to  live.  There  is  nothing  is  worse 
than  your  own  life,  and  what  call  have  you  to  go 
losing  it  ? 

Coppinger:  I  never  would  go  back  before  any 
enemy  at  all  so  long  as  my  life  would  last!  I 
tell  you  I  never  felt  so  merry  in  my  life,  and  no 
bad  bones  about  me.  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  of  the 
worst  thing  you  could  meet,  a  bee  coming  to  sting 
you,  or  whatever  it  might  be ! 

Costello:  I  wouldn't  face  them  again,  I  to  get 
all  the  whales  of  the  big  ocean.  I  tell  you  they 
are  hardy  lads.  There's  few  of  the  police  would 
like  to  grabble  with  them. 

Coppinger:  It  is  crippled  and  crappled  you  are 
with  age,  Darby  the  way  you  do  be  failing  in 
your  walk ! 

Costello:  I  am  up  to  no  such  great  age,  but  my 
feet  that  are  sore  with  all  they  sweated.  But  it's 
you  yourself  is  getting  very  slack  in  your  work  and 
very  attentive  to  your  bed. 

Coppinger:  Is  it  that  you  are  saying  I  am  an 
old  spent  man?  I'm  not  so  old  at  all!  I'm  not 
as  old  as  the  hills  of  Gowra,  whatever  age  that  is ! 
I'm  not  up  to  the  age  of  Brian  Hosty  that  has  not 
hardly  a  blade  of  hair  on  his  head,  and  has  lost  the 
whole  of  his  teeth. 


The  Image  23 

Hosty:  Leave  your  finger  in  my  mouth  till 
you'll  see  did  I  lose  my  teeth ! 

(Peter  Mannion  comes  in.} 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Is  it  for  commands  you  are 
come,  Peter  Mannion,  and  you  going  with  your 
car  to  the  town  ? 

Mannion:  The  priest  and  the  waterguard  are 
after  going  where  there  is  a  gathering  of  strange 
lads  around  and  about  the  two  dead  fishes  on 
the  strand. 

Coppinger:  Sure  it's  to  sweep  the  whole  troop 
of  them  into  the  sea  we  are  going  out  at  this 
minute. 

Mannion:  The  priest  and  the  waterguard  has 
them  banished  back  to  their  own  parish  and  their 
own  district.  To  give  them  great  abuse  his  rever- 
ence did,  and  the  waterguard  threatened  them  with 
the  law. 

Coppinger:  Is  it  to  drive  them  away  clear  and 
clean  they  did? 

Mannion:  Every  whole  one  of  them,  big  and 
little. 

Coppinger:  It's  the  priest  is  well  able  to  break 
a  gap  before  him  and  to  put  justice  and  profit 
into  the  hands  of  his  own  congregation ! 

Hosty:  To  respect  the  first  that  came  to  the 
whales  he  will. 


24  The  Image 

Mannion:  It  is  what  I  was  bid  say,  there  is 
none  of  ye  at  all  will  get  any  hold  of  the  whales. 

Coppinger:  What's  that  you're  saying?  And 
a  miracle  after  coming  for  to  bring  me  my  chance  ? 

Mannion:  The  priest  and  the  waterguard  has 
laid  down  that  the  whole  of  the  gain  and  the  riches 
within  in  those  two  beasts  of  the  sea,  is  not  to  be 
made  over  to  this  one  or  to  that  one,  or  to  be  made 
any  man's  profit  and  his  prize,  but  to  be  laid  out 
for  the  good  and  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole  of  the 
headland,  and  of  this  point. 

Hosty:  It  is  to  the  Connacht  side  they  landed. 
It  wouldn't  be  right  giving  the  Munster  side  any 
share. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  We  should  give  in,  so,  I  sup- 
pose and  to  put  up  with  the  loss.  It's  best  not 
vex  a  priest  or  to  rub  against  him  as  all. 

Mannion:    Which  now  of  ye  is  the  oldest? 

Hosty:    What  meaning  have  you  asking  that? 

Mannion:  It  is  what  I  was  bid  say,  there  must 
some  plan  be  made  up  without  delay,  for  the 
spending  of  whatever  will  come  from  the  whales. 
"It  is  the  oldest  inhabitant,"  says  the  priest, 
"should  be  best  able  to  give  out  judgment  as  to 
that," — and  then  the  waterguard 

Hosty:  To  make  out  a  plan  for  the  spending 
is  it?  That  should  be  a  great  lift  to  any  person. 


The  Image  25 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Taking  Coppinger' s  arm  and 
pushing  him  forward.}  Rise  up  now,  Thomas 
Coppinger,  and  make  your  claim.  You  should  be 
the  most  ageable  person  in  the  place,  you  are  far 
before  seventy  years. 

Mannion:    The  waterguard  that  said  then 

Hosty:  (Pushing  him  away.}  He  is  not  the 
most  ageable,  but  I  that  am  older  than  himself. 
Look  at  the  way  he  is  fresh  and  flushy  in  the  fea- 
tures, and  no  way  racked  looking  the  same  as 
myself. 

(Mannion  sits  down  and  lights  pipe.} 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  No,  but  tossed  hair  you  are 
putting  on  yourself,  and  a  cross  face,  the  way  you 
would  look  to  be  old.  You  to  be  minding  and 
cleaning  yourself  you'd  keep  your  youth  yet.  Tell 
them  out  now,  Thomas,  your  age. 

Coppinger:  What  way  could  I  say  what  age  I 
am?  When  you  are  up  to  seventy  year  you 
wouldn't  feel  the  years  passing.  I'm  telling  no  lie 
saying  that,  no  more  than  if  I  was  on  my  knees  to 
the  priest. 

Hosty:  I  to  have  said  you  were  passed  your 
three  score  a  half  hour  ago,  it's  likely  you'd  fly 
in  my  eye;  but  you  have  the  tune  changed  now-as 
quick  as  any  piper. 

Coppinger:  It's  likely  I  have  sixty  years,  and 
seventy  years  and  another  seventy  along  with 


26  The  Image 

them  if  it  was  counted  right.  But  you  yourself 
are  but  upon  the  bruff  of  age.  Look  at  you  as 
straight  as  a  ribbon ! 

Hosty:  If  I  am  straight,  it  is  because  there  is 
more  spirit  in  the  Connacht  men  than  in  the 
Munster  tribe,  and  more  of  a  name  for  decency! 
I  can  remember  when  you'd  walk  out  as  far  as 
the  strand  to  catch  soles  and  turbots  and  every 
quality  fish,  before  the  trawlers  had  them  all 
destroyed. 

Costello:  No,  but  my  mother  that  remem- 
bered my  brother  falling  on  me  in  the  cra- 
dle, and  hiding  in  the  bushes  all  the  day  in 
dread  of  her.  And  he  was  se.venty-three  when 
he  died. 

Hosty:  Ah,  you  weren't  any  age  much  that 
time  at  all.  It  is  suppler  you  are  than  the 
whole  of  us.  But  I  myself  was  six  months 
the  time  of  the  big  storm,  and  that  can  tell  no 
lie. 

Costello:  My  dearest  life!  Sure  I  remember 
the  big  wind  myself  and  all  that  went  before  it, 
if  it  wasn't  I  was  so  neglectful  and  so  heedless  in 
my  early  time. 

Coppinger:  My  mother,  God  rest  her  soul, 
that  I  heard  saying  I  had  a  year  more  than  Brian 
Hosty.  And  she  remembered  the  landing  of  the 
French  at  Killala. 


The  Image  27 

Hosty:  She  did,  and  the  Danes  being  driven 
out  from  Ireland  I  suppose,  and  the  band  playing 
Brian  Bom's  march ! 

(Peggy  Mahon  appears  at  her  cabin  door.) 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  There  now  is  Peggy  Mahon 
can  settle  the  case.  There  is  no  person  has  know- 
ledge of  years  only  herself,  where  the  dates  are 
away  and  astray,  she  being  such  an  old  resident 
and  drawing  to  a  hundred  years.  Come  out  here 
to  us  now,  Peggy  Mahon,  and  at  the  fall  of  night 
I  won't  leave  you  without  a  drop  of  milk  for  your 
tea. 

Coppinger:  Ah,  she  is  shook  this  long  time. 
Where's  the  use  making  any  appeal  to  her,  and 
she  having  but  old  stories  and  vanities. 

Hosty:  Look  at  here  now,  ma'am.  Didn't 
you  give  aid  to  my  own  three  sons  coming  into 
the  world,  that  are  at  this  time  buried  in  Minne- 
sota? And  my  daughter  that  is  looking  at  her 
children's  children  in  Australia?  And  at  that  time 
I  was  up  in  age. 

Costello:  (Pulling  Hosty  away  from  Peggy.) 
Look,  ma'am,  isn't  it  three  score  years  since  you 
coming  to  the  house  the  time  my  first  young  son 
was  born?  And  it  is  what  you  said,  that  he  was 
a  present  from  God. 

Peggy:  So  he  was,  so  he  was.  Every  baby  is  a 
present  from  God,  it  is  for  God  we  should  attend 


28  The  Image 

it.  It  is  God  puts  you  into  the  world  and  brings 
you  out  of  it,  and  beyond  that  there  is  a  woman 
in  the  stars  does  all. 

Coppinger:  It  is  not  well  in  the  mind  she  is,  and 
not  remembering. 

Peggy:  I  remember,  I  remember.  Lonesome 
after  the  old  times  I  am.  I  am  always  remem- 
bering bye  and  bye. 

Coppinger:  Cast  back  your  mind  so,  to  how 
many  score  years  is  it  since  you  came  attending 
the  first  wife  I  had,  before  I  joined  with  herself 
secondly  in  marriage. 

Peggy:  There  is  no  second  marriage,  there  is 
but  the  one  marriage.  He  that  was  the  best 
comrade,  of  a  hasty  man,  God  Almighty  ever 
put  a  hand  to,  was  brought  away  from  me  with 
little  provocation  twenty  and  half  a  hundred  years 
ago.  Brought  away  through  death  he  was  from 
this  white  world,  and  I  myself  left  after  him,  a 
bird  alone. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (To  Costello.)  The  talk  she 
does  be  always  making  about  Patrick  Mahon,  you 
would  say,  listening  to  her,  he  was  mostly  the  pride 
of  the  headland.  And  he  but  a  poor-looking  little 
creature  they  were  telling  me,  and  having  an  im- 
pediment in  his  speech. 

Costello:  Old  she  is,  and  it's  all  in  her  brain 
the  things  she  does  be  talking  of. 


The  Image  29 

Coppinger:  And  what  way  now  will  a  judg- 
ment be  made,  and  a  decree,  which  of  us  should 
be  leader? 

Mannion:  (Getting  up.}  It's  time  for  you 
hearken  to  my  news.  The  priest  said  the  oldest 
man,  and  the  waterguard  said  the  three  oldest,  and 
the  two  of  them  agreed  that  if  ye  would  agree 
they  themselves  would  agree  to  that.  I'll  be 
coming  again,  where  I  have  to  bring  the  plan  ye 
will  lay  out,  to  put  before  the  Board  of  Guardians 
that  are  sitting  on  this  day,  so  soon  as  I'll  put  the 
tacklings  on  the  horse.  (Goes.) 

Coppinger:  I  might  be  going  to  get  my  chance 
in  the  heel.  Wait  now  till  I'll  lay  my  mind  to  it 
for  a  while. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  And  what  is  your  own  mind, 
Brian  Hosty,  you  that  are  my  near  neighbour  and 
my  most  enemy?  Show  us  now  what  the  intellect 
and  the  wit  of  the  Connacht  man  can  do. 

Hosty:  I  would  not  tell  a  lie  for  one  or  for 
two,  and  I  declare  now  and  nearly  take  my  oath, 
that  I  to  have  my  choice  thing  and  the  riches  of 
Damer  the  Chandler,  it  is  what  I  would  wish, 
this  little  dry  stone  wall  to  be  swept  from  this 
village  where  I  live  to  my  grief  and  my  sorrow, 
and  a  ditch  to  be  dug  from  the  Shannon  to  the  sea, 
would  divide  the  two  provinces,  and  would  be 
wide  enough  and  bulky  enough  to  drown  every 


30  The  Image 

chattering  word  of  the  cranky  women  of  Munster, 
and  let  me  hear  nothing  but  the  sweet-voiced 
women  of  Connacht,  from  now  to  the  womb  of 
judgment. 

Costello:  Oh,  now,  Brian  Hosty,  that  is  a  very 
unneighbourly  way  to  be  saying  such  unruly 
words,  that  wouldn't  be  said  hardly  by  the  poorest 
person  would  be  walking  the  road. 

Hosty:  Tell  out  your  own  request  so,  and  see 
will  it  give  satisfaction,  since  you  are  so  crabbed 
to  be  correcting  myself. 

Costello:  I  wouldn't  like  to  be  going  against 
any  person  at  all.  I  would  sooner  to  leave  it  to 
a  committee. 

Hosty:  So  you  would  too,  and  you  being  every 
man's  man.  And  its  time  for  Coppinger  to  speak 
his  mind,  if  his  wife  will  but  give  him  leave. 

Coppinger:  Every  man  to  his  trade — and  I 
would  like  well  to  keep  to  my  own  trade — It  is  on 
stones  my  mind  is  dwelling  and  on  rocks. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Let  you  break  up  so  and 
make  an  end  of  the  rocks  in  the  harbour  where 
the  Kerry  men's  hooker  was  broke  up.  To  come 
against  one  of  them  it  did,  and  never  left  it  but  in 
little  sticks.  A  danger  to  ships  they  would  be,  and 
any  ships  to  be  coming  in  to  the  pier.  They  to  be 
out  of  it,  what  would  hinder  ships  coming  in  the 
way  you  could  set  out  from  this  street  to  go  to 


The  Image  31 

America  or  around  the  world?  You  wanting 
some  big  thing  to  do,  there  you  have  it  to  your 
hand — The  harbour  of  New  York  there  beyond, 
and  the  harbour  of  Druim-na-Cuan  to  be  here 
and  the  one  ocean  to  be  serving  the  two  of 
them! 

Hosty:  (Laughing.}  You  have  a  great  notion, 
Mrs.  Coppinger  what  sort  the  harbour  of  New 
York  is,  and  you  thinking  to  make  the  like  of  it 
in  this  place,  with  sails  and  steamers  drawing  in 
from  the  world  entirely,  and  the  statue  of  Liberty 
standing  up  high  before  you. 

(Malachi  comes  in  and  sits  down  at  Peggy's 
door.) 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Why  wouldn't  there  be  a 
statue?  A  statue  is  a  thing  does  be  put  in  many 
a  place.  Sure  you  can  see  one  to  Saint  Joseph, 
Protector  of  the  souls  in  Purgatory,  all  the  same 
as  life  across  the  bay. 

Hosty:  And  Thomas  Coppinger  that  is  think- 
ing to  shape  it  out  I  suppose  with  his  hammer, 
according  as  his  fancy  tells  him  what  way  it 
should  be  worked? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Why  wouldn't  he  shape  it 
and  he  having  a  mind  to  shape  it,  and  being  well 
used  as  he  is  to  handle  every  sort  of  stone  ? 

Hosty:  It  is  not  of  stone,  statues  do  be  made, 
but  of  iron  would  be  rendered  into  a  mould,  the 


32  The  Image 

same  as  sheep's  tallow  you  would  be  rendering 
for  candles. 

Coppinger:  I  would  never  say  iron  to  be  as 
natural  as  stone,  or  as  kind. 

Costello:  Plaster  now  would  be  very  tasty  and 
very  suitable,  and  a  shelter  to  be  put  over  it.  It 
would  be  no  way  so  costly  as  iron. 

Hosty:  It  is  iron  is  more  serviceable,  and  as  to 
cost,  the  first  expense  would  be  the  cheapest,  the 
way  it  would  be  a  good  job,  and  not  to  turn  against 
you  after. 

Costello:  What  would  you  say  now  to  cement, 
and  a  good  stand  being  under  it  ? 

Hosty:  If  it  was  a  statue  was  to  be  made,  it's 
an  iron  statue  it  should  be. 

Coppinger:  And  what  way  would  you  hoist  it 
to  its  place?  It  would  have  the  weight  in  it  of  the 
devil's  forge. 

Hosty:  And  what  do  you  say  to  the  weight  of 
stone?  Look  at  that  slab  of  your  own  that  has 
a  hole  wore  through  the  street,  and  it  but  two 
year  or  so  leaning  towards  the  wall. 

Coppinger:  It  has  not  a  hole  made,  but  to  settle 
itself  it  did,  against  such  time  as  it  would  be  called 
for  and  be  wanting. 


The  Image  33 

Hosty:  I  to  have  an  estate  I  would  bet  it,  you 
would  not  be  able  to  lift  it  or  to  stir  it  from  the 
place  it  is  standing  at  this  minute. 

Coppinger:  I'll  engage  I  would,  and  to  throw 
it  over  the  collar  beam  of  the  barn  I  would,  the 

same  as  a  sack  of  oats 

(They  gather  round  headstone.     Mannion 
comes  in.) 

Mannion:  Did  you  make  up  your  mind  yet  to 
say  out  what  thing  it  is  ye  have  settled,  for  me  to 
bring  word  to  the  Board  Room  in  the  town  ? 

Hosty:  What  way  can  we  make  our  mind  up 
till  such  time  as  we  have  a  finish  made  of  this 
argument? 

Coppinger:  Did  you  ever  hear  it  said  in  any 
place,  Peter  Mannion,  iron  to  be  more  answerable 
for  an  image  than  stone  ? 

Costello:  Wouldn't  you  say  now,  Peter,  there 
is  very  lasting  wear  in  cement? 

Mannion:  It  is  best  for  ye  make  your  mind  up. 
There  are  other  old  men  in  the  district,  and  they 
getting  older  every  minute. 

Coppinger.  Give  me  but  the  time  to  bring 
proof  to  Brian  Hosty  that  there  is  no  weight  to 
signify  in  a  slab  of  stone.  (Tries  to  lift  it,  and 
Hosty  and  Costello  encourage  him,  with  sarcastic 
applause.) 


34  The  Image 

Costello:  All  the  strength  you  have  wouldn't 
lift  that  flag. 

Hosty:  Lift  it  is  it?  If  you  were  as  strong  as 
Finn  MacCumhail  you  wouldn't  lift  it. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Dragging  Darby  away.}  You 
are  a  friendly  man,  Darby  Costello,  and  always 
very  liberal  to  do  as  I  bid  you,  not  like  Brian  that 
is  stubborn — Let  you  settle  an  image  to  be 
made  and  be  put  up,  and  give  the  contract  to 
Thomas — he  is  that  greedy  for  work — and  it 
would  be  a  great  thing  for  him  rise  out  of  head- 
stones, and  to  get  a  decent  job— 

Costello:  I'd  be  in  dread  of  Brian  Hosty  going 
against  me.  He  is  always  someway  contrary,  that 
you  couldn't  teach  him  manners. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  would  be  handsome  work 
for  him,  and  who  is  nearer  than  a  neighbour? 
It  might  put  life  in  him  that  he  would  bring  me 
away  to  America  yet.  But  that  to  fail  us  we 
might  as  well  close  the  door — You  to  give  your 
vote  for  it,  and  Thomas  to  give  it,  that  would  be 
two  against  one. 

Mannion:  (Turning  from  Hosty  and  Coppinger 
to  Mrs.  Coppinger.}  Will  you  tell  me  what  at  all 
is  it  they  are  arguing  about  ? 

(Costello  escapes  and  goes  off.} 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  is  that  they  cannot  agree 
what  is  the  right  material  for  to  put  in  a  statue. 


The  Image  35 

Mannion:  And  is  it  a  statue  so,  they  have 
laid  down  as  their  choice  thing  and  their  plan? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Darby  Costello  will  tell  you 
if  it  is.  Where  is  he?  Well,  he  has  but  a  bad 
heart  of  courage.  Why  would  they  be  making 
so  much  talk  about  it,  they  not  to  have  made  it 
their  plan  ? 

Mannion:  I  would  say  it  to  be  a  queer  thing 
for  them  to  lay  their  thoughts  to,  and  a  very 
queer  thing — Let  me  keep  now  the  messages 
in  mind — Candles  for  the  shop — Paraffin  oil  for 
the  priest — a  pair  of  boots  for  the  clerk — the  Board 
of  Guardians  to  be  told  there  is  a  statue  to  be  put 
up  with  the  profit  of  the  oil  of  the  whales — (Goes 
off  as  Coppinger  with  a  great  effort  upsets  the  stone, 
which  falls  with  a  crash.} 

Hosty:  Do  you  call  it  lifting  it  to  throw  it 
down? 

Coppinger:  Wait  a  minute  now  till  I'll  strive 
secondly ! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Thomas!  It's  time  bring 
the  mash  to  the  cow — run  Brian  Hosty,  there's  a 
sheep  of  your  sheep — unless  it  might  be  a  stone — 

is  lying  on   its  back  near   its  death (Brian 

jumps  over  wall.} 

Coppinger:  But  sure  we  made  no  settlement 
yet. 


36  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Shoving  him  into  the  house.) 
It's  well  for  you  to  have  some  one  to  mind  you 
and  to  take  care  of  you — Believe  me,  Thomas 
Coppinger,  you  are  going  to  get  your  chance! 


CURTAIN 


ACT  II 

Scene  same,  but  night  time.  Moonlight.  Candle 
and  firelight  shining  from  the  open  half-door 
of  Coppinger's  house.  Mrs.  Coppinger  heard 
singing  within. 

Malachi:  (Coming  down  street.}  The  fall  of 
night  is  come  and  I  didn't  find  him  yet.  East 
and  west  I'll  go  searching  for  him,  east  and  west — 
he  to  be  in  the  hollow  I'll  be  on  the  hill,  he  to  be 
on  the  hill  I'll  be  in  the  hollow ! 

Peggy:  (Coming  from  her  cabin  with  milk  jug.} 
What  is  on  you,  Malachi  Naughton,  that  you  are 
running  there  and  hither,  as  if  there  was  one  dead 
belonging  to  you? 

Malachi:  (Stops  short.}  It  is  long  you  are  in 
this  world,  Peggy  Mahon,  and  you  knew  a 
power  of  people  from  birth  to  age,  and  heard 
many  histories.  Tell  me,  now,  did  ever  you 
know  or  did  ever  you  hear  tell  of  one  Hugh 
O'Lorrha? 

Peggy.  What  would  ail  me  not  to  hear  of 
him?  Hugh  O'Lorrha — Hugh  Beg  O'Lorrha. 

37 


38  The  Image 

Malachi:  That  is  it,  ma'am,  you  have  it — 
I  knew  well  you  should  have  that  knowledge,  and 
with  all  the  generations  that  passed  before  you 
in  your  time. 

Peggy:  (Sits  down  near  Mrs.  Coppinger's  door.) 
I'd  tell  you  out  his  story  if  I  didn't  think  it  too 
long  to  be  keeping  you  on  the  soles  of  your  feet 
while  you'd  be  hearing  it. 

Malachi:  Tell  it  out,  tell  it  out!  You  to  be 
telling  me  his  story  through  the  length  of  seven 
year,  I  wouldn't  be  tired  listening  to  it, 

Peggy:  Ah,  it's  near  gone  from  me.  All  such 
things  are  gone  from  me,  with  the  dint  of  fretting 
after  them  that  flew  away. 

Malachi:  You  cannot  but  tell  it.  It  is  through 
miracles  his  name  was  brought  to  this  place.  I 
tell  you  it  was  not  brought  without  wonders. 

Peggy:  To  leave  his  mother's  house  he  did — 
Malachi:  So  he  would  too.  What  would 
happen  to  the  world  the  like  of  him  to  have  stopped 
at  home?  He  wasn't  one  would  be  sitting  through 
the  week  the  same  as  the  police,  having  his  feet 
in  the  ashes. 

Peggy:    Out  righting  on  the  road  he  went 

Malachi:  There  were  always  good  fighters  in 
Ireland  till  this  present  time.  The  people  have 


The  Image  39 

no  fight  in  them  now  worth  while,  so  lagging  they 
are  grown  to  be  and  so  liary. 

Peggy:  Fighting,  fighting.  To  get  into  some 
trouble  he  did — it  is  hardly  he  escaped  from  the 
Naked  Hangman 

Malachi:  It  is  the  Sassanach  twisted  the  rope 
for  him  so.  Terrible  wicked  they  were,  and  God 
save  us,  I  believe  they  are  every  bit  as  wicked 
yet.  Go  on,  ma'am,  sound  it  out.  Well,  it  was 
the  one  hand  sent  the  whales  steering  over  the 
tide,  and  brought  me  here  to  yourself  gathering 
newses. 

Peggy:  (Crossly.)  Where  is  the  milk,  Mrs. 
Coppinger  has  me  promised?  I'll  tell  no  more. 
There's  too  many  striving  to  knock  talk  out  of 
me,  and  the  red  tea  stewing  on  the  coals,  and  I 
myself  weary  and  waiting  for  the  drop  of  new 
milk.  Is  it  coming  out  you  are,  Mrs.  Coppinger? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (From  inside.)  I'll  have  it 
now  for  you  within  one  minute. 

Malachi:  They  will  mind  me  now,  they  will 
surely  mind  me  now,  when  I  tell  them  that  name 
has  to  be  put  up.  It  is  to  myself  the  message  was 
brought,  Peggy  Mahon,  to  put  up  the  name  of 
Hugh  O'Lorrha,  and  to  sound  it  in  the  ears  of  the 
entire  world.  Oh,  there  will  be  no  fear  from  this 
out  it  will  ever  be  disremembered  again,  or  wither 
away  from  the  mind  of  any  person  at  all. 


40  The  Image 

Peggy:  Have  you  no  one  of  your  own  to  keep 
in  mind,  Malachi  Naughton,  that  you  should  go 
battling  for  a  name  is  no  more  to  you  than  any 
other,  and  not  to  be  content  with  your  own 
dead? 

Malachi:  It  is  more  to  me  than  any  other 
name.  It  is  a  name  I  would  go  walking  the 
world  for,  without  a  shoe  to  my  foot!  And  why 
would  I  do  that  for  any  common  person,  would  be 
maybe  as  ugly  as  the  people  I  do  be  seeing  every 
day,  and  as  cross  and  as  crabbed?  What  call 
would  I  have  going  through  hardship  for  a  man 
would  be  no  better  maybe,  and  no  better  looking, 
than  myself? 

Peggy:  What  sort  of  a  tribe  are  you  sprung 
from,  or  of  a  poor  mountainy  race,  that  you  would 
have  no  one  of  your  own  kindred  or  of  your  blood, 
would  be  worth  remembering? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Who  has  been  listening,  coming 
to  door.}  The  doctor  called  death  a  shadow,  and 
death  called  the  doctor  a  shadow !  Faith  the  two 
of  ye  put  me  in  mind  of  the  both  of  them,  and  you 
disputing  and  arguing,  and  neither  of  you  owning 
a  ha'porth  worth  arguing  for,  or  a  perch  of  land 
only  the  street,  or  so  much  as  a  stim  of  sense. 

Malachi:  Putting  me  down  the  whole  of  ye 
do  be,  and  saying  I  know  nothing;  and  I  maybe 
as  apt  as  the  best  of  ye,  and  as  wide  awake.  That 


The  Image  41 

one  counting  her  own  dead  in  the  one  count  with 
Hugh  O'Lorrha.  A  man  that  robbed  the  apple 
from  the  hundreds!  But  his  name  will  go  up  in 
spite  of  ye,  if  God  has  a  hand  in  it ! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Leave  arguing  with  him, 
Peggy,  you  might  as  well  be  talking  with  the 
wind.  If  you  go  fighting,  can't  you  fight  for  things 
that  are  worth  fighting  for. 

Peggy:  Why  would  any  person  go  set  their 
mind  upon  the  hither  side  of  the  grave,  and  not 
upon  the  far  side?  I  have  seen  them  come  and 
seen  them  go,  the  scores  and  the  hundreds,  the 
same  as  if  they  came  on  a  visit  to  a  neighbour's 
house,  and  went  from  it  again  the  time  their 
clothes  would  be  wore  out  and  tattered.  And 
the  skin  to  be  wore  into  rags,  the  soul  is  the  one 
thing  always,  for  it  was  the  breath  of  God  put 
into  Adam,  and  it  is  the  possession  of  God  ever 
since.  I  know  well  where  my  own  man  is  living 
yet,  and  where  I  will  come  to  him  when  the  Lord 
will  send  for  me. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  is  hard  know  that.  Any 
man  that  goes  to  punishment  doesn't  come  back 
to  tell  his  story,  and  in  Heaven  I  suppose  they 
keep  a  fast  hold  of  them  too.  This  world's  the 
best  to  keep  your  eye  on.  Who  knows  will  we 
see  them  again,  or  will  we  care  much  about  it  if 
we  do  see  them?  It  would  be  best  for  you  have 


42  The  Image 

taken  another  comrade  in  your  bloom,  in  place 
of  always  lamenting  him  that  is  gone,  and  you 
without  one  to  close  your  eyes  the  time  you'll 
die,  or  the  help  of  a  man  in  the  house,  and  without 
a  son  or  a  daughter  in  all  Ireland. 

Peggy:  You  never  laid  an  eye  on  Patrick 
Mahon,  or  never  lived  next  or  near  him,  and  you 
saying  that.  The  parting  of  us  two  was  the  parting 
of  the  body  with  the  soul.  I  tell  you  there  never 
set  his  foot  on  the  floor  of  the  world,  and  never 
told  his  secret  to  a  woman,  so  good  a  man.  Where 
would  I  find,  east  or  west,  the  like  of  him  of  a  com- 
rade? The  time  he  wanted  me,  and  some  were 
again  it,  we  gave  one  another  a  hard  promise  to 
let  no  person  at  all  come  between  us  or  separate 
us.  And  after  he  going  they  had  a  match  made  for 
me  with  some  man  they  were  bringing  into  the 
house.  But  I  said  I  never  would  rear  a  son  to 
rubbish,  and  I  drove  them  out.  (She  rises.}  And 
if  I  was  glad  to  get  a  dry  potato  at  some  times,  and 
a  bit  of  Indian  meal  itself  in  the  scarce  July,  I  have 
my  promise  kept.  Why  would  I  take  a  man,  I 
said,  and  my  comrade  sleeping  with  no  woman  ? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  That's  not  the  way  with  me, 
but  I  would  sooner  have  some  one  to  care  and  to 
nourish,  than  to  be  looking  after  a  shadow  you 
would  have  no  way  to  be  serving,  but  maybe  with 
an  odd  prayer  or  a  Mass,  and  that  never  might  be 


The  Image  43 

aware  maybe  were  you  thinking  about  him  or 
remembering  him  at  all. 

Peggy:  It's  likely  he  knows,  though  I  never 
saw  him  since,  and  never  had  a  sign  or  a  vision 
from  him,  and  it's  often  I  went  out  looking  for 
him  at  the  fall  of  day.  Never  a  sign  or  a  vision, 
but  often  and  often  he  came  across  me  in  my  sleep. 
Waiting  for  him  I  do  be  till  such  time  as  I  will  come 
to  him,  where  the  Almighty  has  a  very  good  place 
of  His  own.  (Goes  towards  her  own  door.) 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  You  might  come  to  him, 
maybe — but  it  is  hard  to  be  sure  of  it,  and  what 
way  can  you  know? 

Peggy:  (Turning.}  What  way  can  I  know  is 
it?  I  can  give  you  God's  bail  for  it. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  There  can  be  no  bail  better 
than  that — But  to  get  to  our  dead  itself,  it  is 
not  likely  they  would  know  us  or  recognise 
us,  and  the  length  of  the  years  does  be  between 
us. 

Peggy:  Don't  be  saying  that!  Don't  be  put- 
ting that  word  out  of  your  mouth !  How  dare  you 
be  putting  your  own  bad  thoughts  between  myself 
and  my  decent  comrade  ? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I  didn't  think  you  would  be 
so  much  vexed  I  to  say  that.  Here  now  is  the  drop 
of  milk  is  warm  from  the  cow  yet. 


44  The  Image 

Peggy:  (Throwing  it  out  of  her  jug.}  I  will  not 
take  it  or  take  anything  at  all  from  your  hand, 
and  you  after  striving  to  rob  me  of  my  hope.  I 
tell  you,  that  to  be  gone  from  me,  my  heart  would 
break,  that  is  wore  to  a  silk  thread.  He  not  to 
know  me  is  it?  Oh,  Patrick!  Oh,  my  grief!  and 
maybe  it  might  be  so.  For  what  am  I  but  a  bent 
crooked  hag,  withering  through  the  world,  and  you 
yourself  being,  as  I  think,  one  of  the  fair-haired 
boys  of  Heaven !  (Goes  in  and  shuts  door.} 

(Mrs.  Coppinger  goes  into  her  house.  Cop- 
pinger and  Costello  come  in.  Coppinger 
crosses  to  his  own  door.} 

Coppinger:  Well,  now  the  hurry  of  the  day 
is  over,  we  can  settle  our  minds  to  the  choice  we 
have  to  make  for  laying  out  the  benefit  of  the 
whales.  (Sitting  down  and  taking  hat  off.} 

Costello:  (Sitting  down.}  We'll  get  more  fair 
play  making  a  plan,  and  Brian  Hosty  not  being 
in  it,  to  be  running  down  and  ridiculing  every 
word  at  all  we  will  say. 

Coppinger:  Ah,  that  is  but  a  way  he  has,  and  a 
habit  of  his  habits,  to  be  running  down  every 
Munster  person,  and  to  be  drawing  his  own  pro- 
vince upon  us.  He  to  be  cross,  it  is  that  the  genera- 
tions were  cross  before  him. 

Costello:  I  don't  know  are  we  any  way  fitted 
to  be  taking  such  a  load  upon  our  shoulders  at  all. 


The  Image  45 

Coppinger:  Why  wouldn't  we  be  fitted?  A 
man  that  has  the  gift,  will  get  more  out  of  his 
own  brain  than  another  man  will  by  learn- 
ing, and  there's  many  a  man  without  learning 
will  get  the  better  of  a  college  bred  man, 
and  will  have  better  luck  too.  It's  a  great  plan 
we  will  be  making  and  a  great  story  and  a  great 
sound  through  the  whole  ring  of  Ireland. 
(Hosty  comes  in,  gloomily.} 

Costello:  We  were  just  waiting  for  you,  Brian 
Hosty,  till  we'd  start  talking  in  earnest  about  the 
spending  of  the  profit  of  the  whales. 

(Mrs.  Coppinger  comes  and  stands  at  window, 
listening.) 

Hosty:  It's  a  great  deal  of  talk  you  are  wishful 
to  be  making.  I  tell  you,  ye  have  done  enough 
of  talking. 

Costello:  Ah,  don't  be  so  cross  now!  A  person 
to  be  cross  it  would  scare  me. 

Hosty:  It  is  the  chat  of  the  both  of  ye,  and 
your  talking,  has  caused  the  appearance  of 
fools  to  be  put  upon  us  and  upon  the  whole  of 
the  headland,  with  the  plan  ye  made  up,  and 
that  ye  sent  unknownst  to  myself  to  the  Board 
Room. 

Coppinger:  Sure  we  made  no  choice  at  all  yet 
and  no  plan.  We  didn't  begin  hardly  to  argue 
the  matter  yet. 


46  The  Image 

Hosty:  Who  was  it  sent  word  to  the  Board  of 
Guardians  so,  that  the  three  best  men  of  the  point 
of  Druim-na-cuan  had  their  mind  made  up — for 
the  benefit  of  the  whole  parish  and  its  gain — to  lay 
out  the  riches  cast  up  by  the  sea  into  their  hand, 
on  no  other  thing  than  a — statue ! 

Costello  and  Coppinger:  (Standing  up.}  A 
statue ! 

Coppinger:  Sure  we  had  no  intention  at  all  of 
putting  up  a  statue.  Only  conversing  about  such 
articles  we  were. 

Costello:  (Seeing  Mrs.  Coppinger  make  a  sign 
to  him.}  It  is  likely  Peter  Mannion  took  in 
earnest  the  little  argument'  we  were  going  on 
with,  and  that  Brian  Hosty  himself  was  the  first 
to  start. 

Coppinger:  So  he  was,  with  his  mention  of  the 
Statue  of  Liberty  that  is  up  above  the  harbour 
of  New  York. 

Hosty:  Let  Peter  Mannion,  that  is  coming  up 
the  street,  be  put  upon  his  oath,  till  he'll  say  out 
who  was  it  was  seeking  a  job  for  himself,  making 
mention  of  an  image  that  would  be  cut  out  of 
stone. 

Coppinger:  I  was  not  seeking  a  job!  I  said, 
supposing  there  to  be  a  statue  wanted,  stone 
would  answer  it  best.  I  only  said,  "supposing." 


The  Image  47 

Costello:  Sure  it  is  only  supposing  the  whole 
of  us  were.  We  were  not  meaning  anything  at  all. 

Mannion:  (Coming  in.}  I  am  after  coming 
back  from  the  Board  Room.  The  plan  you  have 
made  for  the  benefit  of  the  headland  was  put 
before  the  Guardians.  To  give  consent  to  it  they 
were  asked,  and  a  grant  if  the  means  would  run 
short. 

Coppinger:  And  is  it  a  fact  now,  it  was  said  be- 
fore the  Board  that  the  plan  we  had  laid  out  was 
for  a  statue  ? 

Mannion:  Why  wouldn't  it,  when  that  was 
what  the  three  of  ye  had  agreed  ? 

Hosty:  The  three  of  us!  Glory  be  to  God! 
And  all  the  world  knowing  we  are  three  men  that 
never  could  agree ! 

Costello:  My  dearest  life!  And  what  now 
did  the  Guardians  say  hearing  that? 

Mannion:  They  said  it  was  a  very  nice  thought, 
no  better,  and  a  very  good  thing  to  do. 

Hosty:    They  said  that,  is  it? 

Costello:    The  Lord  protect  and  save  us! 

Mannion:  Themselves  or  the  Rural  Council 
— I'm  not  rightly  sure  between  them — will  send 
a  commission  on  next  Friday,  that  is  a  holy-day, 
to  take  a  view  of  the  site,  and  to  lay  the  foundation 
stone.  Speeches  there  will  be,  they  bringing  a 


48  The  Image 

member  of  Parliament  purposely,  and  a  meeting 
with  banners  and  with  bands. 

Coppinger:  And  no  one  in  the  place  fit  to  put 
up  the  monument  but  myself!  Wouldn't  that  be 
enough  of  a  story  to  put  upon  the  headstone  of  any 
man  at  all?  Didn't  I  know  well  it  was  a  miracle 
brought  the  whales,  the  way  I  would  get  my 
chance ! 

Mannion:  The  Guardians  are  wishful  to  know 
the  name  is  to  be  put  upon  the  statue. 

Coppinger:    The  name  is  it? 

Mannion:  The  name  to  be  sure  of  the  patriot 
it  will  be  made  in  the  similitude  of,  and  the  shape. 

Hosty:    The  patriot ! 

Costello:  It's  a  statue  of  Liberty  Brian  Hosty 
was  talking  about  in  the  commencement. 

Mannion:  Ah,  who  the  hell  cares  about  liberty? 
It  is  what  the  Board  made  sure  you  had  the  name 
chosen  of  some  good  man.  Word  I  have  to  send 
them  by  the  post-car  will  be  passing  at  break  of 
day.  (Goes  off  up  street.) 

Hosty:  And  in  what  place  in  the  wide  world 
are  we  to  go  looking  for  the  name  of  a  good  man  ? 

Malachi:  (Rises  and  comes  to  them.)  Is  it  what 
ye  are  going  to  do,  to  put  up  the  name  of  some 
big  man  ? 

Costello:    It  is,  and  his  image  along  with  it. 


The  Image  49 

Malachi:  You  need  not  go  far  looking  for  that. 
It  is  I  myself  am  able  to  give  you  a  name  is  worth 
while.  As  if  blown  away  on  the  wind  it  was,  till 
it  was  brought  back  this  day,  with  messengers 
were  not  common  messengers,  but  strange.  You 
may  believe  me  telling  you  he  is  the  fittest  man. 

Coppinger:  Who  might  he  be  so,  and  where  is 
he  presently? 

Malachi:  He  not  to  be  out  of  the  world  what 
would  he  want  with  miracles?  He  to  be  in  it 
at  this  time  wouldn't  he  be  well  able  to  cut  a  way 
for  himself  and  ask  no  help  from  anyone  at  all. 

Coppinger:    Tell  us  out  who  was  he  so? 

Malachi:  A  man  he  was  that  left  his  mother's 
house  where  he  was  reared,  and  went  out  fighting 
on  the  roads  of  the  world. 

Coppinger:  There  is  many  a  one  did  that  in 
the  last  seven  hundred  years.  It  was  maybe  fol- 
lowing after  Sarsfield  he  went,  and  the  Limerick 
Treaty  broken  ? 

Malachi:  It  was  out  against  the  English  he 
went 

Hosty:    A  '98  man  maybe? 

Malachi:  It  is  hardly  he  escaped  from  the 
Naked  Hangman 

Costetto:  No,  but  a  '48  man.  There  was  few 
that  escaped  in  '98. 

4 


50  The  Image 

Coppinger:  It's  often  their  story  wasn't  put 
down  right  by  the  illiterate  people  in  the  old 
time.  Tell  out  his  name  now  till  we'll  see  what 
do  we  know  about  it. 

Malachi:  A  great  name,  a  great  name  will  go 
sounding  through  the  world.  It  is  I  myself  got 
the  charge  to  bring  it  to  mind.  Though  my 
clothes  are  poor  my  story  is  high!  Did  ever 
any  of  ye  hear  till  to-day  the  name  of  Hugh 
O'Lorrha? 

Hosty:  I  never  did.  I  think  it  is  but  foolish 
talk  he  is  giving  out,  that  we  are  fools  ourselves 
listening  to. 

Costello:  I  never  heard  it  I  think — or  maybe 
I  did  hear  it. 

Coppinger:  It  is  not  to  a  mountainy  man  it 
would  be  left  to  make  that  name  known,  and  it 
being  the  name  of  any  big  man.  And  I  myself 
never  hearing  it  at  all.  (Goes  and  sits  at  his  own 
door.} 

Hosty:  It  is  down  from  the  mountains  the 
whole  country  is  destroyed,  so  wild  and  so  unruly 
as  ye  do  be,  and  so  ready  to  give  an  opinion  on 
everything  in  the  world  wide.  (He  sits  down  at 
Peggy's  door.) 

Costello:  (To  Hosty.)  Light  in  the  head  he 
does  be,  every  time  there  is  a  twist  in  the  moon. 
It's  best  for  him  go  back  to  the  hillside. 


The  Image  51 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (At  door.)  Innocent  he  al- 
ways was,  and  where  there  is  innocence  there  is 
ignorance.  To  speak  to  him  at  all  would  bother 
you,  as  much  as  it  would  bother  himself. 

Hosty:  Laying  down  to  us  he  is,  to  put  our 
statue  up  to  one  Hugh  O'Lorrha. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Ah  sure,  he  has  my  arm 
blackened  with  the  dint  of  the  pinches  he  gave 
me  a  while  ago,  striving  to  drive  that  story  into 
my  head,  and  he  cherishing  a  bit  of  a  board,  and 
it  squz  up  to  his  chest. 

Coppinger:  Tell  me  this,  Mary,  you  that  have 
that  much  songs  a  horse  wouldn't  carry  the  load 
of  them,  did  you  meet  in  ere  a  verse  of  them  with 
the  name  of  Hugh  O'Lorrha? 

Malachi:  She  did  not  to  be  sure.  His  name 
to  be  in  a  song,  what  would  he  want  with  stones 
or  with  monuments?  Wouldn't  any  man  at  all 
be  well  satisfied,  his  name  to  be  going  through 
the  generations  in  a  song.  My  grief  that  I  haven't 
the  wit  to  make  a  poem  for  him  or  a  ballad,  and 
it  is  a  great  pity  I  am  not  prone  to  versify ! 

Hosty:  Ah,  that  one  would  keep  you  talking 
till  the  clear  light  of  day !  Go  leave  us  now,  where 
we  have  business  to  be  thinking  of. 

Malachi:  (Going  to  corner.)  It  is  laid  down  for 
him  his  name  to  be  put  up.  It  is  for  him  I  say. 
(Sits  upon  a  stone.} 


52  The  Image 

Hosty:  Come  now  and  make  our  settlement 
with  no  more  delay.  There  being  a  statue  to  be 
put  up  in  this  place,  and  the  whole  fleet  of  guard- 
ians and  councillors  and  members  of  Parliament 
wanting  to  get  knowledge  of  the  name  we  will  put 
on  it,  who  now  is  the  most  man  to  be  respected, 
and  to  be  done  honour  to,  of  all  that  ever  came  out 
of  Ireland?  What  is  your  opinion  now,  Darby 
Costello,  if  you  have  any  opinion  at  all? 

Costello:  Don't  be  laying  it  on  me  now.  I'm 
in  dread  I  wouldn't  find  a  name  would  be  pleasant 
to  every  person,  and  that  would  give  no  offence 
in  any  place.  Let  you  ask  Mrs.  Coppinger,  that  it 
is  given  in  to  to  be  the  best  singer  in  this  place, 
and  that  has  the  praise  of  every  man  ever  got 
praises  in  her  songs. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It's  easy  say  who  is  the  best 
man. 

Costello:    (With  a  sigh.}   It  is  not  easy,  but  hard. 
Mrs.  Coppinger  (sings} — 

"His  life  and  liberty  he  risked  both  here  and 

everywhere, 
Both  slander  and  prison  he  suffered  his  own 

share, 
I'm  sure  he  loved  all  Ireland,  'tis  admitted  near 

and  far 
He  would  have  gained  a  fortune  just  at  the 

Irish  Bar!" 


The  Image  53 

Costello:    Good  woman ! 
Hosty:    Rise  it,  ma'am,  rise  it ! 
Mrs.  Coppinger:     (Coming  a  step  forward) — 
"The  foes  of  Ireland,  well  'tis  known  he  often 

made  them  quail, 
With  eloquence  like  thunder  he  defended  Gran- 

uaile, 
You  may  talk  of  Wellington  and  the  battles 

that  he  won, 

But  in  all  that  he  deserved  was  nothing  to  what 
O'Connelldone!" 

Costello:  Very  good!  That's  the  chat  now! 
"But  in  all  he  deserved  was  nothing  to  what 
O'Connelldone!" 

Coppinger:  He  had  a  gift  of  sweetness  on  the 
tongue.  Whatever  cause  he  took  in  hand  it  was 
as  good  as  gained. 

Hosty:  The  best  man  within  the  walls  of  the 
world  he  was.  He  never  led  anyone  astray. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  What  wonder  in  that,  he 
being  as  he  was  the  gift  of  God.  Wasn't  Ennis 
the  best  town  in  the  thirty- two  counties  of  Ireland, 
sending  him  to  Parliament  the  time  his  own  place 
had  him  put  out  ? 

Costello:  (Sings.}  "In  the  year  '47  we  laid 
him  in  Glasnevin." — I'm  no  songster  like  Mrs. 
Coppinger. 


54  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  To  throw  out  the  poison 
from  his  cup  he  did,  the  time  there  was  death 
lurking  in  it.  The  English  that  put  it  within 
in  it,  because  he  was  a  pious  man.  I  seen  his 
picture  in  a  book  one  time.  I  give  you  my  word 
I  kissed  it  there  and  then. 

Coppinger:  His  picture!  No,  but  I  that  saw 
himself  one  time  in  Galway.  I  couldn't  get  anear 
him,  all  the  nations  of  the  world  were  gathered 
there  to  see  him. 

Costello:  Sure  I  seen  him  myself,  it  was  the 
greatest  thing  ever  I  saw.  He  drove  through  the 
streets  very  plain,  and  an  oiled  cap  on  him,  and 
he  having  but  the  one  horse. 

Hosty:  No,  but  seven  horses  in  his  coach  he 
had  the  day  I  saw  him.  They  couldn't  get  in  the 
eighth. 

Coppinger:  Oh,  it's  a  great  image  and  a  great 
monument  I  will  shape  out  for  him  the  dear 
man 

Costello:  So  you  will !  And  he  having  one  hand 
resting  on  a  post,  and  a  paper  having  Repeal  on  it 
held  up  to  his  chest. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  No,  but  Emancipation  that 
should  be  on  the  paper.  There  is  no  other  man 
that  could  be  put  beside  him  at  all. 

Costello:  That  is  settled  now  and  well  settled. 
That  is  a  great  satisfaction,  there  to  be  no  quarrel- 


The  Image  55 

ling  or  no  argument.  It  is  a  very  nice  thing,  Brian 
Hosty,  you  to  be  no  way  thorny  or  disagreeable, 
but  content  and  satisfied  to  be  putting  up  a  monu- 
ment to  a  Munster  man. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  And  what  objection  could 
he  urge  against  a  Munster  man,  and  he  being 
worthier  and  more  honourable  than  any  man 
of  the  other  provinces  of  Ireland? 

Hosty:    I  am  not  giving  in  to  that. 

Costello:  You  are  giving  in  to  it,  as  is  right 
for  you  to  do.  Every  person  seeing  the  image 
put  up  will  know  that  you  were  of  the  one  mind 
and  the  one  opinion  with  ourselves,  and  you 
giving  your  voice  for  our  man. 

Hosty:  I  to  be  as  wise  then  as  I  am  now,  I 
would  not  have  given  in  to  you,  or  given  you  occa- 
sion to  be  running  down  my  province,  and  giving 
the  branch  to  your  own. 

Mrs.  Coppinger.  And  where  would  you  find 
now  any  sort  of  a  hero  in  Connacht  would  give 
satisfaction  far  and  near,  and  have  his  name  up 
as  good  as  the  men  of  Munster?  Dan  O'Connell, 
Smith  O'Brien,  Brian  Boru,  O'Sullivan  Bere— 

Hosty:  Ah,  we  heard  enough  of  that  old 
string  of  heroes  in  the  time  that  is  past.  They  are 
all  done  away  with  now,  and  what  is  left  of  the 
best  of  them  but  a  little  fistful  of  bones?  It's  the 
champions  of  Connacht  are  battling  yet.  Let 


56  The  Image 

the  statue  be  put  up  to  some  living  man  and 
where  is  Munster  ? 

Costello:  What  way  would  you  put  up  a 
monument  to  a  living  man,  and  some  traitors 
maybe  turning  against  him  in  the  latter  end,  and 
running  him  down  ? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Coming  over  to  Coppinger.} 
Do  not  put  your  hand,  Thomas,  to  a  likeness  of 
any  living  man  at  all,  and  his  neighbours  to  be 
coming  and  criticising  it,  saying  it  would  not 
resemble  his  features  or  his  face. 

Ho  sty:  Dead  or  living  I've  no  mind  to  give  my 
voice  for  any  man  was  bred  in  Munster.  You're 
a  proud  piece,  Mrs.  Coppinger,  and  you  think 
you  have  got  the  better  of  me,  but  if  O'Connell 
himself  did  his  work  fair  enough,  there  were  some  in 
your  province  didn '  t  turn  out  too  well  the  time  Crom- 
well was  on  the  road,  and  to  the  day  of  my  death 
I  will  never  put  praises  on  one  of  their  district. 
(Coppinger  jumps  up  angrily.} 

Costello:  (Stopping  him.}  Wait  now  till  we'll 
think  of  some  person  would  answer  the  two  of 
ye —  There  is  one  was  not  from  the  west  or 
from  the  south,  that  was  Parnell.  There  are  some 
say  he  was  the  best  man  ever  lived. 

Coppinger:  He  was  not,  but  O'Connell  was 
the  best,  that  wore  his  hat  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons what  no  man  but  the  King  can  do. 


The  Image  57 

Hosty:  If  Parnell  didn't  wear  his  hat  in  it,  he 
fought  a  good  fight  in  it. 

Coppinger:  If  it  wasn't  for  O'Connell  there 
would  be  no  members  in  the  English  Parliament 
at  all  would  be  Catholics! 

Hosty:  If  there  wouldn't,  there'd  be  no  Catholic 
judges  on  the  Bench,  calling  out  for  coercion  and 
to  do  away  with  juries ! 

Costello:  It's  best  for  ye  agree  to  Parnell. 
I'm  told  if  he  had  held  out  and  kept  up,  he  would 
have  got  the  second  best  match  in  England. 

Hosty:  He  did  more  than  any  other  man  I  tell 
you,  and  he  to  have  lived  till  now  Ireland  would 
be  different  to  what  it  is. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Let  you  not  agree  to  him, 
Coppinger.  Sure  I  had  his  picture  on  the  wall 
and  I  took  it  down  after,  the  priest  thinking  it 
did  not  look  well  to  be  hanging  where  it  was. 

Costello:  Ah,  they  have  but  the  one  thing  against 
him,  and  how  do  we  know  but  that  was  a  thing 
appointed  by  God? 

Malachi:  (Suddenly  coming  between  them.}  Look 
now  at  the  fighting  and  quarrelling  and  the  slander- 
ing is  sent  among  ye,  the  way  ye  will  be  made  give 
in  to  my  own  choice  man.  If  you  didn't  give  in 
to  him  at  the  first,  you'll  be  druv  to  give  in  to  him 
secondly !  A  shining  image  of  silver  I  will  see  put 


5$  The  Image 

up,  and  the  words  will  be  on  it  worked  with  red 
gold. 

Ho  sty:  The  devil  bother  you,  Malachi,  a  poor 
foolish  creature  the  like  of  you,  to  be  interrupting 
our  talk. 

Coppinger:  Let  you  go  in  from  under  that 
moon  that  does  be  making  your  mind  take  a 
flight,  till  the  worst  thing  you'll  be  saying  you'll 
think  it  to  be  the  best. 

Malachi:  Let  you  not  be  belittling  me!  I 
tell  you  I  wouldn't  give  the  weight  of  that  little 
board  in  my  hand,  for  all  that's  on  the  headland 
of  Druim-na-cuan ! 

Coppinger:  Pup,  pup,  Malachi,  we  have  man- 
ners and  were  brought  up  to  manners,  and  you 
have  none. 

Malachi:  I  tell  you  there's  three  quarters  of 
the  world  is  not  good  enough  to  be  drowned ! 

Coppinger:  No,  but  there  are  some  have  a 
tongue  as  bad  as  Judas  had  a  heart,  and  that  is 
bad  enough. 

Malachi:  Keep  your  own  tongue  off  me  so! 
It  is  what  you  are  a  bully,  and  the  captain  of  all 
the  bullies ! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  What  is  ailing  you?  Be 
mannerly  in  your  anger  anyway.  Yourself  and 
your  Hugh  O'Lorrha,  that  was  maybe  some  sort 


The  Image  59 

of  an  idolater  or  a  foreigner,  that  went  breaking 
all  the  commandments ! 

Malachi:  Whatever  he  was  I'd  go  to  the 
north  side  of  hell  for  seven  year  for  him!  The 
whole  fleet  of  ye  together  are  not  worth  the  small- 
est rib  of  his  hair! 

Hosty:     In  my  opinion  he  was  an  innocent  or 
a  fool  the  same  as  yourself,  or  you  would  not  be 
infatuated  with  him  the  way  you  are ! 
(All  laugh.) 

Malachi:  That  will  be  a  dear  laugh  to  you! 
Is  it  defaming  the  character  ye  are  of  my  darling 
man?  But  I'll  put  terror  on  ye!  I'll  give  you  a 
clout  will  knock  your  head  as  solid  as  any  stone 
in  the  wall!  (Flourishes  board.) 

Coppinger:  Lay  down  that  stick,  you  miser- 
able imp ! 

Malachi:  I'll  strike  a  blow  with  it  will  split 
bits  off  a  rock.  You  big  turkey  gobbler  you! 
Come  on  till  I'll  make  a  great  scatter  of  you! 
(They  close  round  him  seizing  board.)  Death 
and  destruction,  but  I'm  as  strong  as  you!  (He 
falls  in  the  scuffle.) 

Mrs.  Coppinger:    Is  it  to  kill  him  you  did? 

Coppinger:  Not  a  kill  in  the  world,  but  the 
senses  that  is  knocked  out  of  him. 


60  The  Image 

Hosty:  If  it  wasn't  that  there  is  luck  with  a 
fool,  he'd  be  done  for. 

Mannion:  (Coming  in.)  Let  ye  stand  back 
now.  What  call  had  you  to  go  charging  at  him, 
and  bearing  him  to  the  ground  ? 

Costello:  No,  but  himself  that  came  rushing 
into  handigrips  with  us,  the  same  as  horned 
cattle  in  a  field. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  is  bleeding  in  the  head  he 
is,  with  the  sharpness  of  the  stone  he  fell  on ;  there 
is  not  much  happened  him  beyond  that. 

Coppinger:  It's  best  lay  him  in  the  hooker 
below  is  just  making  a  start  for  Ballyvaughan. 
To  leave  him  in  the  infirmary  ere  morning  they 
can,  till  such  time  as  he  will  come  around.  Try 
now  can  you  rise  up,  Malachi. 

(He  is  helped  up,  and  Mannion  and  Mrs. 
Coppinger  lead  him  towards  pier.) 

Malachi:  (Calling  out  as  he  goes.)  Time  is  a 
good  story-teller !  Ye  will  do  the  business  for  me 
yet,  till  his  name  will  be  sung  through  the  seven 
kingdoms!  What  is  allotted  cannot  be  blotted.  It 
is  for  him  I  say — it  is  for  him.  (He  is  led  off.) 

Costello:  It  is  a  pity  he  to  have  made  that 
disturbance,  and  we  being  so  pleasant  and  so 
peaceable  together. 


The  Image  61 

Coppinger:  We  have  time  enough  yet  to  make 
another  choice.  We  didn't  go  through  the 
saints  of  Ireland  yet,  or  the  seventeen  kings  of 
Burren. 

Hosty:  Where's  the  use  of  calling  it  a  choice, 
and  I  having  two  contrary  men  against  me.  Any 
time  I  will  strive  to  get  the  goal  for  my  own 
man,  the  two  of  ye  will  join  to  put  me  down. 

(Mrs.  Coppinger  and  Mannion  come  back.} 

Costello:  It  is  a  pity  neighbours  to  be  going 
contrary  to  one  another.  "Let  ye  be  at  one," 
Biddy  Early  said,  "and  ye  will  rule  the  world." 
It  would  be  right  to  bring  the  whole  case  to  a 
closure,  and  not  to  be  hitting  and  striking  and 
calling  "Hi"  for  one,  or  "Hi"  for  another,  the 
same  as  if  it  was  a  disputed  election  was  in  it. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I  saw  a  very  wicked  election 
in  Ennis  one  time,  and  I  rising.  That  was  before 
there  came  in  the  voting  by  ballot. 

Costello.  You  are  a  great  woman  for  thoughts, 
Mrs.  Coppinger,  and  that  is  a  thought  will  settle 
all.  What  would  ail  us  not  to  give  our  votes  by 
ballot  ?  There  would  be  no  room  then  for  disput- 
ing, the  choice  being  over  and  made,  fair  and 
quiet,  and  without  favour  or  intimidation. 

Coppinger:  And  where  will  you  get  ballot 
boxes  and  voting  papers,  and  a  courthouse,  and 
two  men  sitting  in  it  with  themselves,  and  the 


62  The  Image 

voters  writing — if  they  can  write — and  shout- 
ing out  if  they  cannot,  the  name  of  their  own 
man? 

Costello:  What  signifies  clerks  and  papers? 
What  do  you  say  now  to  Peter  Mannion?  It  is 
what  we'll  do,  to  come  up  to  him  and  tell  him 
secretly  the  name  we  have  our  mind  made  up  to ; 
and  he  to  tell  out  after  who  has  the  benefit  of  the 
votes. 

Mannion:  (Coming  forward.}  Let  ye  all  fall 
back  so,  and  not  to  be  putting  ears  on  yourselves, 
but  to  draw  anear  me  one  by  one. 

Coppinger:  That's  it,  and  you  yourself  to  be 
standing  stark  and  quiet,  tha  same  as  the  image 
will  be  standing  there  in  the  time  to  come,  and 
we  to  go  west  as  far  as  the  rick  of  turf 

Mannion:  (Standing  stiffly.}  Whatever  cham- 
pion of  the  champions  of  Ireland  ye  think  to  be  the 
most  worthy  and  the  most  fitting  to  have  his  name 
put  up,  let  ye  tell  it  out  here  to  me  privately.  And 
that  being  done,  I  will  make  my  count,  and  tell 
out  after  who  is  it  has  gained  the  day. 

Coppinger:  That's  business  now.  And  which 
now  of  the  three  of  us  is  to  be  the  first  to  give  his 
own  vote  ? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  is  Peter  Mannion  is  well 
able  to  settle  that,  and  he  being  used  to  society, 
and  the  meetings  at  the  union. 


The  Image  63 

Mannion:     Let  ye  come  so  according  to  the 

letters  of  your  name  —  A,  B,  C,  C,  Coppinger 

—  or   Costello  —  Co  Coppinger  Co  Costello,  it 

isn't  easy  say  which  of  the  two  of  ye  has  to  go 

first. 

Costello:    Let  it  be  Thomas  so.    I'd  be  someway 
shy  and  delicate  to  be  called  in  at  the  start. 
Thomas  the  first,  and  I  myself  will  follow  after. 
(They  all  go  out  of  sight,     Mrs.  Coppinger 
goes  into  house.} 

Mannion:  Come  on,  so,  Thomas  Coppinger, 
and  give  out  your  vote,  according  to  your  opinion 
and  your  conscience  and  your  choice. 

Coppinger:  (Coming  in  and  speaking  to  Man- 
nion confidentially  with  hand  to  mouth.}  It  is  what 
I  am  thinking,  Peter  Mannion,  there  is  truth  in 
what  herself  was  saying  a  while  ago.  It  is  a  hard 
thing  to  be  asked  to  go  make  a  likeness  of  a  man, 
and  his  appearance  to  be  known  before.  And  the 
people  to  be  criticising,  now  they  have  got  to  be  so 
crafty  and  so  enlightened.  But  a  man  not  to  have 
his  appearance  known,  you  would  have  leave  to 
put  on  him  any  shape  that  might  be  pleasing  to 
yourself,  or  that  would  come  handy,  according  as 
the  stone  would  be  slippery  or  be  kind.  Now  every 
person  knows,  by  pictures,  or  by  seeing  them,  or  by 
history  from  one  to  another,  the  features  of  Par- 
nell  and  of  Daniel  O'Connell 


64  The  Image 

Mannion:  Hurry  on  now.  It  is  not  sitting 
hearing  a  sermon  in  the  chapel  I  am,  and  in  dread 
of  the  Missioners  to  go  slip  out  from  the  door. 

Coppinger:  Did  ever  you  hear  now  any  person 
to  have  seen  a  picture  or  a  likeness  of  Malachi 
Naughton's  man? 

Mannion:  I  cannot  bring  to  mind  that  ever 
I  did. 

Coppinger:  I  give  my  voice  and  my  vote  so 
for  Hugh  O'Lorrha.  (Goes  into  his  house.} 

Mannion:  Come  on  now  and  draw  near  to  me, 
Darby  Costello. 

Costello:  (Coming  close  to  Mannion, ,)  It  is 
often  I  was  saying,  Peter  Mannion,  unfriendliness 
among  neighbours  to  be  a  very  awkward  thing. 
I  never  would  be  asking  to  rise  a  dispute,  or  to 
bring  any  person  into  one  at  all. 

Mannion:  Is  it  through  the  dark  hours  of 
the  night  you  are  wishful  to  keep  me  perishing 
in  the  air  that  is  of  the  nature  of  frost  and  of 
sleet  ? 

Costello:  (Seizing  his  arm.)  It's  easy  seen  you 
are  not  living  in  this  village,  Peter  Mannion,  or 
within  three  fields  of  it.  If  I  say  Dan  O'Connell, 
Brian  Hosty  will  be  making  attacks  on  me,  and  if 
I  say  Parnell,  Mrs.  Coppinger  will  be  picking  at 
me  and  going  on  at  me,  and  maybe  putting  up 
Thomas  to  be  mis-spelling  my  name,  and  he  print- 


The  Image  65 

ing  it  on  the  head-piece  he  has  me  promised  at  the 
last 

Mannion:  (Shaking  him  off.)  I  give  you  my 
word  I'll  leave  you  here  and  now,  to  be  giving  out 
your  reasoning  to  the  seals  and  to  the  gulls  of  the 
air. 

Costello:  (Holding  him.)  It  is  impossible  to  say* 
what  men  would  be  best,  and  good  and  bad  being 
together  in  the  whole  of  them.  And  all  I  would 
wish  is  the  name  of  some  man  that  never  gave 
offence,  and  had  ne'er  an  enemy  worth  while — and 
it's  likely  that  would  be  the  mountainy  man's 
choice,  Hugh  O'Lorrha. 
(He  goes  off.) 

Mannion:  Come  on  now,  Brian  Hosty,  and 
let  me  go  out  of  this. 

Hosty:  (Coming  in.)  There  are  some  on  this 
headland  want  to  get  the  master  hand — (Points 
towards  Coppinger's  door.)  Himself  and  his  fire- 
ball! 

Mannion:    Hurry  on  now. 

Hosty:  To  give  them  too  much  of  a  scope, 
and  not  to  give  them  a  check,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  live  anear  them.  It  would  be  worse  they 
to  be  in  power  than  Martin  Luther. 

Mannion:    Don't  be  delaying,  but  see  can  you 
agree  with  the  two  that  are  agreed  at  this  time. 
s 


66  The  Image 

Hosty:  They  to  have  agreed,  it  is  some  plan 
they  have  made  to  get  the  mastery  over  myself 
and  over  Connacht.  I  never  told  a  lie  but  two 
or  three,  and  you  may  believe  me  saying,  that 
if  there  were  two  hundred  Dan  O'Connells,  and 
twenty  thousand  Mr.  Parnells,  and  a  sovereign 
in  their  hands  for  every  vote  I'd  vote,  I'd  give 
it  to  none  of  them,  but  to  a  man  I'm  sure  and 
certain  sure  Darby  or  Thomas,  or  his  wife,  never 
gave  out  a  challenge  for,  and  never  blew  the  horn 
for,  and  that  is  the  fool's  man,  Hugh  O'Lorrha! 

Mannion:  (Beckoning  the  others  in.}  Let  ye 
draw  near  to  me  now.  Come  up  here  Mrs.  Cop- 
pinger,  till  I'll  count  out  the  returns.  By  the  opin- 
ion, and  the  judgment,  of  the  three  fairest  men, 
and  the  three  choice  men  of  Druim-na-cuan,  and 
they  voting  together  the  same  as  children  of  one 
house,  without  deceit  or  trickery,  the  image  is  to 
be  reared  on  this  headland  is  to  stand  for  the  hon- 
our and  the  memory  and  for  the  great  name  and 
the  fame  of  Hugh  O'Lorrha! 

All    Hugh  O'Lorrha! 

(They  raise  their   hands  in  astonish- 
ment, and  look  at  one  another. 


CURTAIN 


ACT  III 

Scene:  same  as  before.  Four  days  later,  mid-day. 
Mrs.  Coppinger  putting  out  chairs  and  a  table 
and  sweeping.  Costello  looking  on. 

Costello:  It  is  certain  this  will  be  a  great  meet- 
ing of  people,  and  a  grand  white  day  for  the  head- 
land of  Druim-na-cuan.  I  would  want  a  slate  and 
a  pencil  to  count  all  I  saw  coming  the  road. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Isn't  it  a  big  hurry  is  on 
them,  to  ask  to  come  laying  the  stone  for  the 
monument,  and  it  never  mentioned  or  thought  of 
at  all  up  to  four  days  ago. 

Costello:  Sure  at  that  time  the  whales  had  the 
last  puff  hardly  gone  out  of  them. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  What  way  are  the  whales 
presently?  I  thought  to  go  see  them  but  it  failed 
me,  and  the  neighbours  from  all  parts  drawing  in 
for  talk  every  whole  minute. 

Costello:  It  was  the  one  way  with  myself,  I 
didn't  get  the  time  to  draw  anear  them.  It  is  what 
Thomas  was  saying,  next  Monday  maybe,  with  the 
help  of  God,  we'll  go  start  drawing  off  the  oil. 

67 


68  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Dusting  a  chair.)  That  now 
is  all  the  chairs  they  can  get.  Sure  they  could  not 
all  expect  to  be  seated,  and  they  coming  in  their 
hundreds.  There  is  not  a  west  of  Ireland  man  will 
not  be  in  it. 

Costello:  Indeed,  ma'am,  you  have  accommo- 
dated them  very  well  with  everything.  It's  well 
for  them  get  a  place  to  stand  itself.  From  all  I 
hear,  and  they  congregated,  it  would  fail  you  to 
put  a  pin  between  any  two  and  two  or  any 
twelve  and  a  dozen.  Pressing  to  hear  the 
speeches  they  will  be.  They  are  saying  the 
Chairman  of  the  Board  to  be  a  very  solid 
speaker. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It's  the  member  for  North 
Munster  is  the  best.  Grand  out  and  out  he  is, 
and  has  very  tasteful  drawn  out  talk.  The  re- 
porters themselves  couldn't  follow  it  or  put  the 
half  of  it  down. 

Costello:  (Looking  out  over  wall.}  Tents  and 
booths  they  are  setting  up  upon  the  strand.  Glory 
be  to  God,  it's  like  a  theatre  to  be  looking  at  them 
arriving.  They  were  waiting  for  the  turn  of  the 
spring-tide.  You  were  craving  sprees  this  long 
time,  Mrs.  Coppinger,  and  it  is  with  pride  you  are 
apt  to  be  spending  this  day. 

(Malachi  comes  in  from  left,  his  head  tied  up, 
and  his  arm.) 


The  Image  69 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  And  who  now  would  be  the 
first  to  come  to  the  meeting  but  Malachi  Naugh- 
ton!  And  indeed  it  is  much  like  a  ghost  he  is 
looking,  that  would  knock  a  start  out  of  you,  or  a 
shadow  would  be  wandering  through  the  world. 

Malachi:  (Looking  about  on  the  ground.}  It  is 
there  I  left  it  down.  I'm  certain  it  is  in  that 
spot  I  left  it  out  of  my  hand. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  What  way  did  they  do  a 
cure  on  you  in  the  Workhouse,  Malachi?  Bet 
up  I  was  fearing  you  were,  and  that  it's  hardly 
you  would  be  eating  this  world's  bread  again. 

Malachi:  Just  battled  it  out  I  did — just  battled 
it  out —  Did  ye  see  in  any  place  my  bit  of  a 
board  I  used  to  have? 

Mrs.  Coppinger.  I  did  not  see  it,  unless  it 
might  be  thrust  as  kindling  in  under  the  turf  on 
the  hearth. 

Malachi:  Isn't  that  a  hard  case  now,  my  bit 
of  a  board  to  be  robbed  from  me,  and  it  after 
being  brought  to  me  over  the  ocean  and  all  the 
dangers  of  the  sea,  and  having  on  it  the  name  you 
know.  That  to  be  swept  away  from  me,  I  am 
penetrated  and  tossed. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  You  to  burn  the  house  down 
it's  not  likely  you  would  find  it.  But  you  may 
quit  fretting  and  breaking  your  heart,  for  if  it 
is  the  name  of  Hugh  O'Lorrha  you  are  craving 


70  The  Image 

to  see,  you  will  see  it  in  a  short  while  printed  in 
clean  letters  beneath  the  soles  of  his  feet,  and  his 
own  image  reared  up  in  this  spot  all  the  same  as 
life,  in  the  shape  will  be  put  upon  him  by  my  own 
man,  according  to  the  pictures  and  the  plan  are  to 
come  to  us  from  Dublin  on  this  day. 

Malachi:  I  heard  that,  I  heard  that.  I  knew 
well  his  name  would  be  put  up  in  spite  of  ye. 
But  it's  for  the  whole  world  that  will  be,  and  they 
coming  from  the  east  and  from  the  west  to  do  hon- 
our to  him;  and  he  might  take  it  bad  of  me,  I  to 
go  lose  that  little  bit  of  a  board. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  You  heard  of  all  was  doing 
so  far  away  as  the  Workhouse  Infirmary?  Isn't 
it  a  great  wonder  now  tidings  to  go  out  so  speedy 
and  so  swift. 

Malachi:  It  was  in  every  person's  mouth  ere 
last  night,  in  the  ward  where  I  was  screeching 
with  the  pain,  and  the  doctors  after  taking  the 
full  of  a  bucket  of  badness  out  of  my  bones.  As 
much  blood  nearly  came  away  from  me  as  would 
be  in  three  men.  But  I  rose  up  after  hearing  that 
news. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I  wonder  they  to  have  let 
you  out  and  the  way  you  are,  that  you  couldn't 
hardly  put  a  rack  through  your  hair. 

Malachi:  (Sits  on  chair  beside  the  table.}  I 
asked  no  leave.  I  slipped  out  in  the  half  dark  at 


The  Image  71 

the  battling  of  the  day  with  the  night.  The  road 
to  be  seventeen  times  as  long,  I  wouldn't  feel  it. 
I  tell  you  I  was  that  strong  I  could  walk  on  water, 
my  heart  being  light  and  airy  the  way  it  is  with 
the  thought  of  his  name  being  put  up  and  his 
image,  that  will  be  shining  out  as  bright  as  stars 
on  a  frosty  night,  and  all  the  whole  country  press- 
ing to  look  at  it. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  isn't  likely  it  is  shining  it 
will  be,  it  would  take  marble  would  be  rubbed 
for  to  shine,  and  the  hardness  of  that  would  not 
serve  Thomas's  tools.  And  the  colour  of  it 
wouldn't  answer  either,  the  spotted  or  the  black. 
It  is  likely  he  was  a  man  having  a  white  front  to 
his  shirt — I  wonder  now  is  it  swarthy  he  was  or 
red-haired  ? 

Malachi:  It  is  I  myself  could  give  you  know- 
ledge of  that. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  What  way  could  you  have 
knowledge,  and  he  being  dead  ? 

Malachi:  God  be  with  the  company  that  left 
me  in  the  night  time ! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Is  it  to  see  one  belonging  to 
him,  or  that  had  acquaintance  with  him  you 
did? 

Malachi:  I'd  burst  if  I  didn't  tell  it!  Across- 
cut  I  was  making  that  was  eight  strong  miles 
across  the  mountain,  and  I  was  travelling  down 


72  The  Image 

a  little  avenue  of  stones  by  the  forth  that  was 
all  shining  with  the  brightness  of  the  night — 
More  people  I  saw  in  it  than  ever  I  saw  at  a 
hurling,  and  I'd  ask  no  better  sight  than  that  in 
high  Heaven. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Where  now  did  all  that 
company  come  from? 

Malachi:  More  people  than  ever  I  saw  in 
twenty  fairs.  And  beyond  that  I  saw  twelve  of 
the  finest  horses  ever  I  saw,  and  riders  on  them 
racing  around  the  forth.  Many  a  race  I  saw 
since  I  lived  in  this  world,  but  for  tipping,  and 
tugging,  and  welting  the  horses,  never  a  race 
like  that — and  there  was  a  rider  of  those  riders 
without  a  twist  in  him — at  the  first  there  was  like 
a  fog  about  him 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Ah,  it  is  but  visions  of  the 
night  you  are  talking  about;  or  your  sight  that 
spread  on  you.  It  was  but  the  shadow  of  some 
soul  you  saw,  or  people  that  are  out  of  this 
world.  Or  maybe  it  is  dreaming  you  were,  and 
you  stepping  out  through  your  sleep. 

Malachi:  (Getting  up.)  Take  care  but  it  was 
no  dream !  Let  you  go  out  looking  yourself  so  in 
the  night  time.  And  if  you  do  go,  it  is  likely 
you  will  see  nothing  but  the  flaggy  rocks  and  the 
clefts,  for  it's  not  all  are  born  to  see  things  of  the 
kind.  I'll  tell  you  no  more,  I  wish  I  had  told 


The  Image  73 

you  nothing,  and  I  wish  I  didn't  lose  my  little 
bit  of  a  board!  (Goes  into  Coppinger's  house 
looking  for  it  on  the  ground.) 

Coppinger:  (Coming  in.)  Well,  I  have  brought 
you  tidings  you  will  wonder  at,  and  that  will 
raise  and  comfort  your  heart ! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  There  is  nothing  would  make 
me  wonder  after  all  happened  in  these  days  past. 
I  to  rise  up  in  the  morning  under  lofty  rafters  in 
Boston,  I  give  you  my  word  I'd  take  it  as  sim- 
ple as  a  chicken  would  be  hatched  out  of  the 
shell! 

Coppinger:  (Sits  on  table.)  Did  ever  you  hear 
the  name  of  a  Hosty  or  a  Costello  or  my  own 
name,  that  is  as  good  as  their  own  through  the 
father,  besides  any  flight  it  might  take  with  the 
mother,  to  be  put  up  on  the  papers  with  praises 
around  and  about  them. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Why  would  they  be  put  up 
on  the  papers  with  praises?  I  never  heard  of 
Brian  or  Darby  no  more  than  yourself,  ever  to 
have  been  brought  before  the  magistrates,  or  to 
have  put  his  head  inside  a  gaol? 

Costello:    Who  was  telling  you  ? 

Coppinger:  The  Dispensary  Doctor  that 
stopped  his  side-car  on  the  road,  and  the  driver 
of  the  mail  car,  and  he  would  tell  no  lie,  and 
Morrissey  is  herding  for  Cunningham,  and  that 


74  The  Image 

was  bringing  back  a  score  of  lambs  from  the 
market  at  Cloon. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  And  what  account  were  they 
giving  of  what  was  on  the  papers? 

Coppinger:  Three  honourable  men,  the  papers 
said  we  were,  that  showed  respect  where  respect 
should  be  showed.  A  pattern  and  an  example 
for  all  Ireland  they  said  we  were,  the  nut  of  the 
bunch,  the  flower  of  Druim-na-cuan  and  the 
clean  wheat  of  the  Gael ! 

Costello:    Do  you  tell  me  so? 

Coppinger:  And  more  than  that  again,  the 
Board  of  Guardians  gave  out  a  great  lacerating 
to  all  the  rest  of  the  Unions  of  the  two  provinces, 
where  they  had  never  stretched  a  hand  to  raise 
up  the  memory,  or  so  much  as  to  change  the 
address  on  a  street,  to  the  great  high  up  name  of 
HughO'Lorrha! 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  That  is  very  good.  Believe 
me,  there  is  not  a  Board  or  a  Board .  Room 
west  of  the  Shannon,  but  will  have  a  comrade 
cry  sent  out  between  this  and  the  Feast  of 
Pentecost. 

Coppinger:  I  ask  you,  Mary,  and  I  ask  the 
two  of  you,  did  you  often  hear  me  saying  I  would 
surely  get  my  chance? 


The  Image  75 

Costello:  I  wonder  now  you  to  have  courage 
to  go  think  yourself  fitted  to  make  a  figure  of  a 
champion  all  the  world  will  be  coming  to  see. 

Coppinger:  I'm  no  way  daunted  or  turning 
my  back  upon  the  work!  I  tell  you  if  it  was 
three  statues  was  wanted,  of  the  three  sons  of 
Usnach,  or  the  three  Manchester  martyrs,  or 
the  three  saints  of  Burren,  MacDuagh,  MacDara 
and  Columcille,  it's  ready  I'd  be  and  greedy 
I'd  be  to  set  my  hand  to  the  work! 

Hosty:  (Coming  in  with  rolls  of  paper,  going  to 
seat  outside  Peggy's  door.}  I  got  the  pictures 
from  the  Clerk  of  the  Union  where  he  sent  for 
them  to  Dublin.  Two  able  lads  that  drew  them 
he  was  telling  me,  that  have  laid  their  mind  to 
sketching  as  their  trade. 

Coppinger:  They  should  be  very  apt  and  very 
handy,  making  so  little  delay  in  putting  down  a 
thing  of  the  kind. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Opening  one  roll.}  Wait  now 
till  we'll  take  a  view  of  them  before  the  meeting 
will  gather  about  them.  (Unrolls  it  and  shows 
conventional  design  for  statue  of  an  orator.) 

Costello:  That  is  very  nice  now  and  very 
good. 

Coppinger:  (Feebly.)  It  wouldn't  be  an  easy 
job  now,  any  person  to  come  around  the  like  of 


76  The  Image 

that.     Wait  till  we'll  see  the  comrade,  is  it  any 
way  more  simple  and  more  plain. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Opens  it.}  It  is  mostly  the 
same  as  the  other,  but  for  having  on  it  a  cloak  in 
place  of  a  coat. 

Coppinger:  It's  a  queer  thing,  now,  not  to  get 
a  picture  laid  down  by  some  skilled  person  would 
be  used  to  going  through  stone,  and  not  to  be 
leaving  it  to  the  fancies  of  young  pups  of  boys 
rising  up. 

Hosty:  It  would  be  hard  to  beat  it.  Grand 
out  and  out  it  is.  But  sure  the  both  of  them 
are  great.  They  were  very  smart  surely  to 
make  a  picture  of  the  sort,  without  a  button  left 
out  or  a  ha'porth.  But  it's  you  yourself,  I  am 
thinking,  that  is  in  dread  it  will  fail  you  to  carry 
through  the  job. 

Coppinger:  I  give  you  my  word  the  one  of 
them  would  be  as  light  to  me  as  what  the  other 
would  be.  I  am  asking  no  reprieve  from  the 
work.  But  the  ancient  monuments  that  were 
the  best,  such  as  you'd  see  in  the  Abbey  beyond, 
where  the  hero  didn't  ask  to  be  put  upon  his 
two  feet,  but  was  content  to  lie  stretched  the 
way  you  might  be  lying  on  a  bed,  and  you  not 
seeking  sleep. 

Hosty:  Shove  over  that  box,  Darby,  and  hold 
up  the  one  of  them — (Costello  hangs  one  back  and 


The  Image  77 

front  from  his  neck  and  gets  up  on  box.)  That  now 
is  the  way  it  will  be — And  it  is  not  yourself, 
Thomas,  will  have  the  choice  to  make  this  time. 
It  is  the  Board  itself  will  keep  that  in  their  hands. 

Costello:  (Standing  on  box.)  That  is  best,  it 
would  be  a  great  load  on  us  to  have  to  do  that 
part  of  the  job.  It  is  easy  for  themselves,  that 
are  used  to  be  judging  between  contracts  and 
tenders  and  the  like. 

Hosty:    It's  not  so  easy  as  you  think. 

Costello:  I  tell  you  they  have  good  practice 
in  their  business,  settling  and  pitching  as  they 
must  between  the  choice  and  the  cull. 

Hosty:  One  of  the  lads  is  nephew  to  the  member 
for  North  Munster. 

Costello:    Let  them  give  him  the  proffer  so. 

Hosty:  By  the  two  mothers,  the  second  of  the 
lads  is  first  cousin  to  the  Vice-Chairman  of  the 
Board. 

Costello:  Let  them  choose  the  two  of  them  so, 
and  put  them  back  to  back — It  might  be  settled 
into  some  sort  of  a  groove  that  it  could  be  shoved 
from  side  to  side — (Turns  slowly  round  on  box.) 
It  to  revolve,  there  would  be  no  aspersion. 

Mannion:  (Coming  in.}  I  was  bid  see  is  all 
ready  for  the  big  men  are  on  the  road,  with  their 
side-cars  and  with  their  band. 


78  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Let  them  come  now  and 
welcome.  We  have  all  ready  before  them.  The 
table,  the  chairs,  the  stone  is  to  be  made  a  hole  for, 
and  the  pictures. 

Mannion:  It  is  what  I  was  bid  to  ask,  is  the  writ- 
ing made  out,  is  to  be  put  at  the  butt  of  the  statue  ? 

Coppinger:    The  writing  is  it? 

Mannion:  That's  it.  The  name  and  the  date 
of  Hugh  O'Lorrha's  birth,  and  the  place  he  was 
reared,  and  the  length  of  his  years,  and  the  deeds 
he  has  done.  Write  me  out  a  docket  now  having 
that  put  down  upon  it  clear  and  plain. 

Hosty:    Let  Thomas  Coppinger  do  that. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Why  wouldn't  he  do  it,  and 
you  yourself  being  illiterate  and  not  able  to  put 
down  your  mind  on  paper? 

Hosty:  I  am  not  illiterate,  but  as  well  aware 
of  things  as  yourself.  But  he  that  is  used  to  be 
putting  such  things  over  the  bones  of  the  whole 
of  the  district,  the  pen  should  be  light  in  his 
hand  as  is  natural,  and  should  be  kind. 

Coppinger:  Not  at  all,  but  every  man  that 
comes  to  be  buried  that  gives  me  the  years  and 
the  names.  I  have  enough  to  do  after,  bringing 
them  within  their  scope  on  the  slab.  It  isn't 
easy  keep  them  from  running  around  the  edges. 
Let  Brian  Hosty  put  it  down  himself. 


The  Image  79 

Hosty:  It  never  was  my  trade  to  be  spilling 
out  words  on  paper,  the  same  as  a  poet  or  a  clerk. 
It  is  Darby  Costello  has  practice,  where  he  was 
forced  by  the  police  to  print  his  name  and  dwelling- 
place  on  the  shaft  of  his  ass-car,  ere  last  year. 

Costello:  Ah,  let  me  alone,  I'm  in  dread  I  might 
not  do  it  in  a  way  would  satisfy  all  that  are  coming. 

Coppinger:  Ah,  what  are  you  wanting  to  put 
down?  His  christened  name  we  have,  and  the 
name  of  his  family  and  his  tribe,  and  that  is 
more  than  was  wrote  down  of  some  of  the  world's 
great  men,  such  as  Homer  that  spoke  Greek  and 
never  wrote  a  lie. 

Mannion:  It  is  likely  that  will  not  be  enough. 
Reporters  that  were  asking  in  the  town,  what 
place  was  Hugh  O'Lorrha  born. 

Coppinger:  You  should  know  that,  Brian 
Hosty,  where  your  memory  has  no  burdens  on  it 
like  my  own. 

Hosty:    I  forget  it  as  good  as  yourself. 

Mannion:  Well,  who  is  it  has  the  whole 
account?  Sure  it  must  have  been  written  down 
at  some  time,  in  a  history  or  in  a  testament. 

Costello:  Who  would  have  it  but  Malachi 
Naughton?  He'll  remember  us  of  it. 

Hosty:  Come  out  here,  Malachi,  you're 
wanting. 


8o  The  Image 

Malachi:  (Coming  out  of  house.)  What  is  it  you 
are  wanting  of  me  ? 

Coppinger:  Give  out  now,  Malachi,  if  you  can 
give  it,  the  deeds  and  the  greatness  of  the  man  is 
to  be  set  up  on  a  stone  in  this  spot. 

Mannion:  Ah,  it  is  likely  it  is  little  he  knows  or 
can  tell  about  him  at  all. 

Malachi:  Why  wouldn't  I  know  about  him, 
and  I  after  seeing  him  with  my  two  eyes  ? 

Coppinger:  Is  it  to  see  him  you  are  saying 
you  did? 

Malachi:  Clear  and  plain  I  saw  him  in  the 
night  time.  If  I  didn't  why  would  my  heart  leap 
up  with  him  the  way  it  does  ? 

Coppinger:  Is  it  with  yourself  you  were,  seeing 
him? 

Malachi:  I  have  no  witnesses  but  the  great 
God  and  myself.  Crowds  and  crowds  of  people 
I  saw.  Men  like  jockeys  that  were  racing — 
and  one  that  was  the  leader  of  them,  on  a  bayish 
horse — the  sun  and  the  moon  never  shone  upon 
his  like — eyes  he  had  were  more  shining  than  our 
eyes,  and  as  to  comeliness,  there  was  no  moretobe 
found.  The  champions  of  Greece,  and  to  put  all 
of  them  together,  would  not  equal  the  flower  of  one 
drop  of  his  strong  blood. 


The  Image  81 


Coppinger:  I'm  thinking  it  is  little  satisfaction 
we  will  get  questioning  him,  and  his  thoughts 
going  as  they  do  upon  every  queer  track.  Old 
he  is,  and  it  is  all  in  his  brain  the  things  he  does 
be  talking  of. 

Malachi:  You  have  me  tormented  with  your 
catechism,  and  you  brought  away  my  little  bit 
of  a  board.  Let  you  go  ask  Peggy  Mahon,  that 
knows  all  he  went  through  better  again  than 
myself. 

Coppinger:  Peggy  Mahon  to  know  him  it  is 
likely  he  was  born  in  this  district.  She  maybe 
got  knowledge  he  would  be  some  great  man,  picking 
it  out  of  the  stars. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  No,  but  go,  Peter  Mannion 
and  ask  a  loan  of  the  Register  that  has  all  the 
names  of  the  parish  set  down  for  maybe  four 
score  years  or  a  hundred  years  back. 

Mannion:  I  won't  be  long  getting  it,  supposing 
the  clerk  to  be  at  hand.  It  isn't  easy  find 
him  within.  The  dates  not  to  be  away  and  astray, 
it  would  be  very  handy  to  get  some  information 
from  penmanship,  besides  dragging  it  as  if  from  the 
depths  and  the  bottom  of  a  bog.  (Goes.) 

Malachi:  You  would  stand  to  look  at  him  in 
a  fair  I  say.  Fair  hair  on  him  the  colour  of  amber. 
Twelve  handsome  riders  and  he  before  them 
all 


82  The  Image 

Costello:  Sure  we  have  the  likeness  of  him  here 
that  was  made  to  represent  him  the  way  he  was 
thought  to  be,  or  that  other  great  men  of  his 
sort  would  be  in  the  habit  of  appearing.  (Holds 
up  picture.} 

Malachi:  (Coming  up  eagerly  close  to  picture, 
staring  and  falling  back.)  The  devil's  welcome  to 
you !  Is  it  you  is  calling  yourself  Hugh  O'Lorrha? 
My  bitter  curse  upon  you,  how  well  you  stole  his 
name!  (He  backs  away  from  it.) 

Costello:  If  you  had  intellect  to  understand 
things  of  the  sort  you  would  not  be  running  it 
down.  It  is  away  in  Dublin  that  was  made, 
and  they  should  know. 

Malachi:  I'll  shave  you  without  soap  or 
razor!  It's  a  skelp  of  a  stone  I  would  be  well 
pleased  to  be  giving  you,  and  you  laying  claim 
to  his  name!  That  God  may  perish  you!  Is 
it  for  the  like  of  you  the  sea  was  filled  with  wonders 
and  with  signs? 

Coppinger:  Indeed  it  is  not  much  the  way  it  is 
put  down  on  paper,  but  cutting  will  be  a  great 
addition  to  it,  the  time  it  will  be  shaped  in  stone. 

Malachi:  A  man  that  had  seven  colours  in  his 
eyes!  That  was  for  beauty  and  for  strength 
beyond  a  hundred!  His  name  in  lines  of  golden 
letters  written  on  his  own  blue  sword!  A  man 
could  whip  the  world  and  that  broke  every  gap ! — 


The  Image  83 

Sure  you  have  no  action  in  you,  no  action  at  all, 
without  liveliness,  without  a  nod.  The  devil 
himself  wouldn't  take  you  or  the  like  of  you ! 

Costello:  Well  now,  Malachi,  haven't  you  the  ter- 
rible scissors  of  a  tongue !  He  is  well-looking  enough 
if  it  wasn't  he  has  some  sort  of  a  comical  dress. 

Malachi:  (Threatening  picture,  but  held  back  by 
Mrs.  Coppinger.)  Be  off  out  of  that  you  unnatural 
creature,  or  it  is  I  will  twist  your  mouth  round 
to  your  poll!  I'll  blacken  the  teeth  of  you  and 
whiten  the  eyes  of  you !  It  is  your  brain  I  will  be 
putting  out  through  the  windows  of  your  head! 
If  I  had  but  a  rod  in  my  hand  it's  soon  I  would 
make  you  limber !  It  is  powder  I  will  make  of  your 
bones  and  will  turn  them  to  fine  ashes !  It  is  my- 
self is  well  able  to  tear  you  to  flitters  and  to  part 
your  limbs  asunder!  Be  going  now  before  I'll 
break  you  in  thirty  halves.  (Tries  to  rush  at  it,  but 
stumbles  over  box.)  To  be  putting  such  an  appear- 
ance and  such  an  insult  on  my  darling  man!  The 
devil  skelp  the  whole  of  ye !  My  bitter  curse  upon 
the  spot  ye  had  planned  out  for  to  be  putting  up 
a  thing  the  very  spit  of  yourselves,  and  ugly  out  of 
measure !  (Kicks  over  box.) 

Hosty  (picking  up  board,  which  has  been  hidden 
under  it.}  That  is  a  bit  of  the  Kerry  men's  green 
bordered  boat,  that  was  lost  as  was  right,  and  they 
robbing  our  mackerel. 


84  The  Image 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I  said  that  I  heard  the  name 
of  Hugh  O'Lorrha  in  some  place.  It  is  what  they 
were  telling  me,  that  was  the  name  on  the  boat. 

Malachi:  (Snatching  it.}  Oh,  my  board,  my 
little  bit  of  a  board!  How  well  it  failed  them 
to  hide  from  me  what  the  waves  of  the  sea  could 
not  keep  from  me ! 

Costetto:  No  wonder  you  to  be  comforting 
yourself,  Malachi,  the  way  you  won't  be  fearing 
at  any  time  your  brave  hero  to  be  but  a  deceit 
and  a  mockery.  Sure  he  must  be  some  big  man 
his  name  to  be  printed  on  a  board. 

Malachi:  A  deceit  is  it?  I  to  think  that, 
why  would  I  be  wearing  his  livery?  It  is  what 
I  am  thinking,  Darby  Costello,  you  are  a  very 
liary  man.  (He  puts  board  under  his  shirt.}  Oh, 
my  heart-secret,  wait  till  I'll  hide  you  from  them 
all,  and  they  not  able  to  understand  a  thing  they 
are  not  fit  to  understand!  There's  a  bad  class 
of  people  in  this  place,  are  not  worthy  to  see  so 
much  as  your  name !  I  don't  want  to  be  annoyed 
with  them  any  more  than  I  am.  I'll  keep  my 
knowledge  to  myself,  between  myself  and  the 
bare  stones.  I'll  go  back  to  the  beasts  and  the 
birds  that  pay  respect  to  him! 

Hosty:  Do  so,  and  it  might  chance  you  to  see 
him  again,  and  the  full  moon  working  in  your 
head. 


The  Image  85 

Malachi:  (Turning  back  for  a  moment  as  he 
goes.)  So  I  will  see  him  again!  I'm  well  able  to 
track  him  through  fire  and  fair  water.  And  I'll 
know  him  when  I  will  see  him,  and  that  is  what  you 
or  the  like  of  you  will  not  do.  And  another  thing. 
I  tell  you  I'd  sooner  he  not  to  be  in  it,  than  he 
to  be  in  it,  and  to  be  what  you  are  making  him 
out  to  be!  (Goes.) 

(Band  heard  in  the  distance.) 

Mannion:  (Coming  in.)  Here  now,  I  chanced 
the  clerk  leaving  the  door.  Here  is  the  Register  so 
far  as  it  goes  back,  and  that  is  but  after  the  year 
of  the  Famine.  To  go  astray  the  old  ones  did  or 
some  ignorant  person  that  made  an  end  of  them. 
You  will  find  the  name  you  are  looking  for  in 
this 

Hosty:  You  will,  the  same  time  you  will  find 
a  hundred  goats  without  damage  or  roguery. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Is  it  that  the  clerk  said  there 
was  in  it  the  name  of  Hugh  O'Lorrha? 

Mannion:    He  did,  and  he  said  besides  that — 

Hosty:  A  name  to  be  down  in  the  register, 
it  did  not  get  there  by  itself.  I  was  getting  to 
be  in  dread  he  might  be  some  sort  of  a  Jack  o' 
Lanthorn. 

Coppinger:  What  way  could  he  be  that,  and 
the  country  entirely  calling  their  leagues  and 
their  hurling  clubs  by  his  name?  It  is  not  to  a 


86  The  Image 

Jack  o'  Lanthorn  I  myself  would  be  working 
out  a  statue  of  stone. 

Mannion:  If  you  will  but  listen  till  I'll  tell 
you  what  the  clerk  was  saying 

Hosty:  Let  you  sound  out  now,  Darby  Costello, 
whatever  may  be  written  in  the  book. 

Costello:  (Giving  it  to  Mrs.  Coppinger.}  No, 
but  Mrs.  Coppinger.  It  would  take  her  to  do  that ; 
she  that  can  read  out  the  paper  the  same  as  if 
God  put  it  in  her  mind. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Sitting  down  and  opening 
first  page.}  Michael — Michael  Morrissey — that's 
not  it — where  now  was  'he  born? — Bally  - 
rabbitt — he  should  be  father  so  to  the 
Morrissey  is  herding  for  Cunningham. 

Hosty:  Don't  be  going  through  the  races  and  gen- 
erations now,  or  you  never  will  make  out  the  name. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Thomas  Fahy,  and  after  that 

Joseph  Fahy  and  Peter  Fahy well,  they  got 

enough  of  space  in  the  book,  that  whole  tribe 
of  the  Fahys.  It  is  a  book  for  themselves  they 
have  a  right  to  be  paying  for,  and  not  to  be  taking 
space  that  is  for  the  whole  of  the  parish. 

Hosty:    Go  on  now,  ma'am,  go  on. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Would  you  believe  now  here 
is  more  of  the  Fahys.  Congregated  on  the  page 
they  are,  the  same  as  a  flock  of  stairs. 


The  Image  87 

Hosty:  (Seizing  book  and  turning  over  pages  to 
the  end.}  Make  now  a  second  reading — it's 
best  begin  at  the  finish  till  you'll  get  shut  of 
them.  There's  a  good  deal  of  the  Fahys  wore 
away  since  that  time. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It's  hard  to  please  you,  Brian 
Hosty,  and  you  so  hasty  as  you  are.  Here  now 
is  the  last  name  in  the  book  if  that  will  sat- 
isfy you.  What  is  it?  H,  Hugh  —  What  will 
you  say  now  hearing,  it  is  no  less  than  Hugh 
O'Lorrha? 

Costello:    The  man  we  are  looking  for. 

Coppinger:  (Looking  over  Mrs.  Coppinger's 
shoulder.}  So  it  is  too.  Sound  out  the  year  now, 
Mary,  and  the  day,  the  way  I  will  space  them  in 
my  mind. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  May  the  tenth  in  this  year — 
— the  day  ere  yesterday no  but  yesterday 

Hosty:  It  is  the  year  you  are  reading  wrong. 
What  way  would  a  man  be  getting  a  monument, 
and  he  to  be  baptized  within  the  last  past  two 
days. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Reckon  it  for  yourself  so,  if 
ever  you  learned  figures  on  a  slate. 

Hosty:  (Taking  book.}  The  year  our  own  year 
— sure  enough,  unless  there  did  clouds  rise  up  in 
my  head. 


88  The  Image 

Mannion:  It  is  what  the  clerk  was  saying,  and 
you  to  give  me  leave  to  be  telling  it,  there  is  a 
man  of  the  Fahys 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Have  done  with  your  Fahys! 
Is  it  that  you  are  saying  Hugh  O'Lorrha's  name 
was  ever  Englished  into  Fahy? 

Mannion:  A  man  of  the  Fahys  that  is  living 
anear  the  forge  gave  his  young  son,  that  was 
baptized  yesterday,  the  name  of  Hugh  O'Lorrha, 
where  he  was  hearing  it  belled  out  through  the 
whole  of  the  district. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  I'm  no  way  obliged  to  you, 
Peter  Mannion,  for  keeping  tfcat  close  the  way 
you  did,  and  all  the  trouble  I  am  after  going  to 
in  the  search.  And  what  call  had  he  to  go  tracking 
after  names  outside  of  his  own  generations  and  his 
tribe? 

Manmon:  It  is  what  the  clerk  was  saying,  a 
young  weak  little  family  he  has,  ten  of  them 
there  are  in  it;  and  he  has  the  names  were  in 
his  family,  or  on  the  best  of  the  Saints,  mostly 
used  previously. 

Hosty:  And  as  to  the  real  Hugh  O'Lorrha,  we 
are  as  wise  as  we  were  at  the  first. 

Coppinger:  What  are  books  and  what  are 
Registers  put  beside  any  person's  mind?  Come 
out  here  now,  Peggy  Mahon,  and  tell  us  what 
you  can  tell  us,  and  what  we  are  craving  to  know. 


The  Image  89 

Hosty:    You  will  get  nothing  at  all  out  of  that 

one,  unless  it  might  be  cracked  talk  and  foolishness. 

(Peggy  comes  out  and  they  all  crowd  around 

her.     She  has  a  cat  in  her  arms,  and  sits 

down  on  the  seat  outside  her  door.) 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Tell  us  out  now,  Peggy,  all 
you  can  tell,  about  one  Hugh  O'Lorrha. 

Peggy:  I  am  not  in  humour  for  talking  and  for 
foolishness.  The  cat  that  has  my  tea  destroyed, 
that's  all  the  newses  I  have.  To  put  his  paw  in 
it  he  did,  that  I  should  throw  it  out  of  the  door. 
There  is  no  person  would  drink  water  or  any  mortal 
thing  and  a  cat  after  touching  it,  for  cats  is  queer, 
cats  are  the  queerest  things  on  the  face  of  the 
globe. 

Coppinger:  Come  on  now,  Peggy,  till  I'll  ques- 
tion you. 

Peggy:  The  day  I  wouldn't  get  my  drop  of 
tea  I  could  keep  nothing  at  all  in  my  mind.  What 
call  had  he  to  go  meddle  with  it?  There  is  some- 
thing is  not  right  in  cats. 

Hosty:  Where's  the  use  of  questioning  her? 
Giddy  she  is  with  age,  and  it's  impossible  to  keep 
a  head  on  her. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Wait  a  second  and  I'll  have 
her  coaxed,  bringing  her  out  a  cup  of  tea.  (Goes 
•into  house.) 


9°  The  Image 

Coppinger:  Tell  us  now,  the  same  as  you  told 
Malachi  Naughton,  all  that  happened  to  Hugh 
O'Lorrha,  and  that  gave  him  so  great  a  name. 

Peggy:  Hugh  O'Lorrha — Hugh  O'Lorrha  that 
was  all  the  name  ever  he  had,  and  it  will 
be  his  name  ever  and  always.  I  heard  that 
since  I  was  remembering,  since  I  had  sense  or 
head. 

Coppinger:  I  suppose  now  it  could  hardly  be 
yourself,  ma'am,  befriended  him,  and  he  coming 
into  the  world? 

Peggy:  Wasn't  that  a  rogue  of  a  cat  now,  to 
go  dip  his  paw  down  into  my  tea? 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  (Coming  out  with  cup  of  tea.} 
Here  now,  Peggy  Mahon,  drink  a  sup  of  this  and 
it  will  give  you  nice  courage  for  a  while. 

Peggy:  (Turning  her  shoulder  to  her.)  What 
call  had  you  to  go  saying  my  own  man  would  not 
recognise  me  and  I  dead?  And  all  the  world 
knows  that  Him  that  ordered  lights  for  the  day 
and  for  the  night  time,  has  given  out  orders  for 
all  He  will  send  for,  to  come  before  Him  in 
their  bloom. 

Coppinger:  (Taking  cup  and  offering  it  to  her.) 
That  is  so  surely.  At  thirty  years  of  age  and  in 
their  bloom.  (Peggy  drinks  tea.) 


The  Image  91 

Costetto:  She  won't  refuse  after  that  to  tell  her 
story,  and  she  knowing  it  to  tell,  about  Hugh 
O'Lorrha. 

Peggy:  I  know  it,  and  it's  myself  does  know  it. 
I  have  a  grand  little  story  about  him. 

Coppinger:    Out  with  it  so,  ma'am. 

Peggy:  There  was  a  widow-woman  one  time, 
and  she  is  not  in  it  now,  and  what  signifies  if 
she  ever  was  in  it  at  all 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  That  has  the  sound  nearly  of 
the  beginning  of  some  ancient  vanity. 

Coppinger:    Have  patience  now,  it  is  coming. 

Peggy:  She  had  but  one  son  only,  and  the 
name  was  on  him  was  Hugh  Beg  O'Lorrha. 

Costetto:  My  dearest  life!  I  was  thinking  the 
same  thing  before.  Sure  that  is  a  folk-tale  my 
grandfather  used  to  be  telling  in  the  years  gone 

by. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Can  you  tell  us  now  at  what 
time  did  he  live? 

Peggy:  How  would  I  know?  I  suppose  at  the 
time  of  the  giants.  He  came  in  one  day  to  his 
mother.  "Go  boil  a  hen  for  me  and  bake  a  cake 
for  me,"  says  he,  "till  I'll  travel  as  far  as  the  Court 
and  ask  the  King's  daughter." 

Costetto:  I  know  it  through  and  through.  It 
is  nothing  at  all  but  a  story-teller's  yarn. 


92  The  Image 

Coppinger:     Is  that  truth  you  are  saying? 

Costetto:  To  the  best  of  my  belief  I  am  speaking 
the  truth.  I  can  tell  it  through  to  the  binding. 
To  take  the  life  he  did  of  the  Naked  Hangman,  that 
was  hid  in  the  egg  of  a  duck. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Why  didn't  you  tell  us  before 
now,  Darby  Costello,  that  you  knew  Hugh 
O'Lorrha  to  be  but  a  deception  and  an  empty 
tale. 

Costello:  I  was  someway  shy  and  fearful  to  be 
going  against  the  whole  of  ye.  And  sure  when 
we  had  to  believe  it,  we  must  believe  it. 

Hosty:  And  is  it  only  in  the  poets'  stories  he 
is,  and  nothing  but  a  name  upon  the  wind?  What 
way  did  it  fail  you  to  know  that,  Thomas 
Coppinger,  and  that  Malachi  had  put  his  own 
skin  upon  the  story. 

Coppinger:  I  don't  know  from  Adam's  race, 
unless  it  was  witchcraft  and  spells  and  oracles. 
How  well  it  failed  you  to  find  it  out  yourself. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  Sure  he  must  have  lived  in 
some  place,  or  why  would  we  be  putting  up  a 
monument  to  him? 

(Band  and  cars  heard  nearer.) 

Hosty:  He  lived  in  no  other  place  but  in  the 
Munster  poets'  lies.  It  is  great  ridicule  will  be 
put  on  us  now  by  all  that  are  coming  the  road. 


The  Image  93 

To  jibe  at  us  they  will,  we  to  be  spending  our 
means  upon  a  man  that  never  was  in  it  at  all. 

Coppinger:  The  thing  that  was  to  give  me  my 
chance  to  have  brought  me  ruination  in  the 
end!  Since  the  Gael  was  sold  at  Aughrim  there 
never  was  such  a  defeat ! 

Costetto:  I'm  in  dread  it's  to  do  violence  to  us 
they  might.  There  will  always  be  contrary 
people  in  a  crowd.  It  is  up  to  my  neck  in  the 
tide  I  would  wish  to  go,  the  way  no  person  could 
come  near  me,  or  be  making  attacks  on  me.  (All 
sit  down  disconsolately.) 

Peggy:  (Standing  up  and  giving  a  delighted 
laugh.)  Ha,  Ha!  Ye  are  defeated,  and  ye  earned 
defeat!  Sure  ye  know  nothing  at  all.  This  one 
running  down  the  fool's  man,  saying  he  was  made 
but  out  of  thoughts  and  of  fancies;  and  this  one 
(Pointing  to  Mrs.  Coppinger)  running  down  my 
own  man,  saying  he  was  of  no  use  and  of  no 
account,  and  that  he  was  not  better,  but  worse, 
than  any  other  one. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:  It  was  you  told  that  to  her, 
Darby  Costello,  for  to  make  mischief  between 
neighbours  were  at  one. 

Costello:  If  I  did  it  was  to  raise  her  heart  and 
to  pacify  her,  where  she  was  fretting  with  the 
thought  she  would  not  come  to  him  and  she  dead. 
But  the  time  I'll  go  doing  comfortable  things 


94  The  Image 

again,  it's  within  in  my  own  mind  I'll  go  do  them, 
the  way  I  won't  suffer  in  my  skin.  Such  abuse  to 
be  getting!  I  might  as  well  be  a  renegade. 

Coppinger:  Give  no  heed  to  them,  Peggy,  and 
I  myself  will  carve  a  slab  will  do  credit  to  your  man, 
and  will  keep  his  name  above  ground  for  ever. 

Peggy:  I  will  give  you  no  leave  to  do  that! 
I'll  ask  no  headstone  and  his  name  upon  it,  and 
strangers  maybe  to  be  sounding  it  out  with  the 
queer  crabbed  talk  they  have,  and  the  gibberish, 
and  ridiculing  it,  and  maybe  making  out  my  clean 
comrade,  my  comely  Patrick,  to  be  but  a  blemished 
little  maneen,  having  a  stuttering  tongue.  (She 
goes  into  cabin  and  turns  at  door.}  A  queer  race 
ye  are,  a  queer  race.  It  is  right  Malachi  was 
quitting  you,  and  it  was  wise.  Any  person  to  own 
a  heart  secret,  it  is  best  for  him  hide  it  in  the  heart. 
Let  the  whole  world  draw  near  to  question  me,  but 
I'll  be  wise  this  time.  I'll  say  no  word  of  Patrick 
Mahon,  and  no  word  of  Hugh  Beg  O'Lorrha,  that 
is  maybe  nearer  to  him  than  some  that  are  walking 
this  street.  Oh  yes,  oh  yes,  I'll  be  wary  this  time 
and  I'll  be  wise,  very  wise.  I'll  be  as  wise  as  the 
man  that  didn't  tell  his  dream !  (She  goes  into  her 
house  and  shuts  door.} 

Mannion:  (Coming  in.}  Is  it  long  now  since 
any  of  ye  went  to  the  place  the  whales  landed  upon 
the  strand? 


The  Image  95 

Hosty:  It  would  be  seventeen  times  better  for 
themselves  and  ourselves,  those  beasts  to  have 
stopped  browsing  where  they  were,  in  their  pen 
that  is  beneath  the  green  ocean. 

Coppinger:  Hadn't  I  enough  to  do  planning 
out  the  figure  and  the  foundation  and  the  stone? 
I'd  have  the  day  lost  visiting  them.  Monday 
morning  with  the  help  of  God,  I'll  go  take  a 
view  of  them. 

Mannion:  All  the  view  you  are  apt  to  get,  is  of 
the  seals  spits  lying  on  the  strand,  and  of  the 
waves  and  the  wrackage  of  the  sea. 

Coppinger:    What  are  you  raving  about? 

Mannion:  In  the  argument  the  whales  went 
out  from  ye. 

Coppinger:  They  couldn't  stir  unknownst  to 
us.  What  way  could  they  walk,  having  no  legs? 

Mannion:  The  Connemara  lads  have  the  oil 
drawn  from  the  one  of  them,  and  the  other  one 
was  swept  away  with  the  spring  tide. 

Costello:  For  pity's  sake!  That  cannot  be 
true! 

Mannion:  It  is  true,  too  true  to  be  put  in  the 
ballads. 

Hosty:  It  is  no  mean  blow  to  the  place  losing 
them;  and  to  yourself,  Thomas  Coppinger,  and 
your  grand  statue  swept  away  along  with  them. 


96  The  Image 

Costello:  Let  you  not  fret,  Thomas.  There 
did  no  badness  of  misfortune  ever  come  upon 
Ireland  but  someone  was  the  better  of  it.  You 
not  to  go  shape  the  image,  there  is  no  person  can 
say,  it  is  to  mis-shape  it  you  did.  Let  you  comfort 
yourself  this  time,  for  it  is  likely  you  would  have 
failed  doing  the  job. 

Coppinger:  I  was  thinking  that  myself,  Darby. 
I  to  begin  I'd  have  to  follow  it  up,  and  the  deer 
knows  where  might  it  leave  me. 

Mrs.  Coppinger:    We'll  not  be  scarce  of  talk 

•for  the  rest  of  our  years  anyway.     For  some  do 

be  telling  the  story  was  always  in  it,  but  we  will 

be  telling  the  story  never  was  in  it  before  and 

never  will  be  in  it  at  all ! 

(The  band  is  heard  quite  close  playing 
"O'Donell  Abu!"  Mrs.  Coppinger 
rushes  in  at  door,  looks  out.  Coppinger 
hides  behind  headstone.  Hosty  leaps 
the  wall  into  Connacht.  Costello  hides 
at  side  of  Peggy's  house.  Only  Peter 
Mannion  left  in  centre.  Band  quite 
close  and  shouts  of  Hi!  for  Hugh 
O'Lorrha!} 


CURTAIN 


NOTES   WRITTEN   FOR  FIRST   EDITION, 

1910 

To  A  CERTAIN  EDITOR — "When  the  'Image'  was 
produced  at  the  Abbey,  I  put  on  the  programme  a 
quotation,  'Secretum  meum  Mihi,'  'My  Secret  to 
Myself,'  which  I  had  for  a  while  thought  of  taking 
as  its  name.  I  think  from  a  note  in  your  paper  you 
and  some  others  believed  that  the  secret  I  wanted  to 
keep  was  my  own,  whereas  I  had  but  given  a  'heart- 
secret'  into  the  keeping  of  each  of  the  persons  of  the 
play. 

"One  of  the  old  stories  known  in  the  cottages  is 
of  a  beautiful  lady  loved  by  a  king's  son,  who  follows 
her  to  a  garden  where  they  loved  and  are  happy. 
She  has  laid  on  him  one  condition  only:  'You  must 
never  wonder  at  me,  or  say  anything  about  me  at  all.' 
But  one  day  she  passed  by  him  in  the  garden,  and  when 
he  saw  her  so  beautiful,  he  turned  and  said  to  the 
gardener:  'There  was  never  a  lady  so  beautiful  as 
mine  in  the  whole  world.'  'There  never  was,'  said 
the  gardener,  'and  you  will  be  without  her  now,'  he 
said.  And  so  it  happened,  and  he  lost  her  from  that 
day  because  he  had  put  his  thought  about  her  into 
common  words. 

"So  it  fell  out  with  my  old  people.  Brian  Hosty's 
'  Image '  was  his  native,  passionately  loved  province 
7  97 


98  The  Image 

of  Connacht;  but  he  boasted  of  it  to  some  who  could 
see  its  thorns  and  thistles  with  passionless  eyes,  looking 
over  the  mering  wall.  Mrs.  Coppinger  had  her  mind 
set  upon  America  as  a  place  where  the  joy  of  life  would 
reach  its  summit,  but  that  hope  is  clouded  by  the 
derision  of  one  who  has  been  there,  and  seen  but 
the  ugliness  about  him.  Costello  thought  of  an  earth 
all  peace,  but  when  he  spoke  of  peace  'they  made 
themselves  ready  to  war.'  Thomas  Coppinger  dreamed 
of  the  great  monument  he  would  make  to  some  great 
man,  and  old  Peggy  of  one  made  beautiful  through 
long  memory  and  death;  and  Malachi  of  one  who  was 
beyond  and  above  earthly  life.  And  each  of  these 
images  crumbled  at  the  touch  of  reality,  like  a  wick 
that  has  escaped  the  flame,  and  is  touched  by  common 
air.  And  the  more  ecstatic  the  vision  the  more 
impossible  its  realisation  until  that  time  when,  after 
the  shadows  of  earth,  the  seer  shall  'awake  and  be 
satisfied.' 

"You  are  certainly  proud  of  what  your  paper  has 
done  to  bring  back  respect  for  the  work  of  Irish  hands. 
But  I  wonder  if  it  is  all  you  intended  it  to  be  when  you 
wrote  in  a  little  book  I  edited  ten  years  ago  of  a  'new 
Ireland  rising  up  out  of  the  foundations  of  the  old, 
with  love  and  not  hate  as  its  inspiration?'  For  you 
also  have  been  an  Image-maker.  The  Directors  of 
our  Theatre  are  beginning  to  get  some  applause,  even 
in  Dublin,  for  its  success,  but  only  they  know  how  far 
it  still  is  from  the  idea  with  which  they  set  out.  And 
so  with  my  sisters'  sons,  to  whom  I  have  dedicated 
this  play.  One  brought  together  the  Conference 
that  did  so  much  towards  the  peaceable  and  friendly 


The  Image  99 

changing  of  land  ownership.  The  other  has  made 
Dublin  the  Orient  of  all — artists  or  learners  or  critics, 
who  value  the  great  modern  school  of  French  painting. 
Yet  I  fancy  it  was  a  dream  beyond  possible  realisation 
that  gave  each  of  them  the  hard  patience  needed  by 
those  who  build,  and  the  courage  needed  by  the 
'Disturber'  who  does  not  often  escape  some  knocks 
and  bufferings.  But  if  the  dreamer  had  never  tried 
to  tell  the  dream  that  had  come  across  him,  even 
though  to  'betray  his  secret  to  the  multitude'  must 
shatter  his  own  perfect  vision,  the  world  would  grow 
clogged  and  dull  with  the  weight  of  flesh  and  of  clay. 
And  so  we  must  say  'God  love  you'  to  the  Image- 
makers,  for  do  we  not  live  by  the  shining  of  those 
scattered  fragments  of  their  dream  ? 

"I  do  not  know  if  I  should  have  written  this 
'apology'  at  the  first  playing  of  'the  Image,'. or  if 
I  ought  to  leave  it  unwritten  now.  For  after  all, 
those  enjoy  it  most  who  say  in  what  I  think  is  your 
own  formula — 'this  is  what  Lady  Gregory  calls  a 
comedy,  but  everybody  else  calls  a  farce. ' " 


I  owe  an  acknowledgment  as  well  as  many  thanks 
to  A.  E.,  who  gave  me  the  use  of  an  idea  that  had 
come  to  him  for  a  play,  which  he  had  no  thought  of 
carrying  out.  It  was  about  a  man  who  collected 
money  in  a  country  town  for  a  monument  to  one 
Michael  M'Carthy  Ward,  I  forget  on  what  grounds. 
The  money  is  collected,  the  collector  disappears,  and 
then  only  it  is  found  that  Michael  M'Carthy  Ward 
had  never  existed  at  all.  I  meant  to  carry  this  out 


ioo  The  Image 

'in  the  manner  of  "Spreading  the  News"  or  "The 
Jackdaw,"  but  the  "Image"  took  the  matter  into  its 
own  hands,  and  whether  for  good  or  ill-luck,  the 
three-act  play  has  grown.  I  think  I  have  not  quite 
failed,  yet  it  also  is  not  what  I  set  out  to  do. 


It  was  after  the  play  had  been  written  that  an  old 
man  strolling  out  from  Gort  one  Sunday  talked  of 
O'Connell.  "There  is  a  nice  monument  put  up  to 
him  in  Ennis,"  he  said.  "In  a  corner  it  is  of  the 
middle  of  the  street,  and  himself  high  up  on  it,  holding 
a  book.  It  was  a  poor  shoemaker  set  that  going.  I 
saw  him  in  Gort  one  time;  a  coat  of  O'Connell's  he 
had  that  he  chanced  in  some  place.  Only  for  him 
there  would  be  no  monument;  it  was  he  gathered 
money  for  it,  and  there  was  none  would  refuse  him." 
And  still  later,  this  spring,  I  went  to  see  the  Hill  of 
Tara,  and  I  was  told  that  the  statue  of  Saint  Patrick 
on  it  "was  made  by  a  mason — a  common  mason.  If 
it  wasn't  that  he  had  made  it,  and  had  it  ready,  and 
was  a  poor  man,  it  would  not  have  been  put  up."  So 
the  ambitions  of  Malachi  Naughton  and  Thomas 
Coppinger  have  not  been  without  ancestry. 


HANRAHAN'S  OATH 


101 


MARY  GILLIS     . 
MARGARET  ROONEY 
OWEN  HANRAHAN 
COEY 

MRS.  COEY 
MICHAEL  FEENEY 


A  Lodging-house  Keeper. 

Her  Friend. 

A  Wandering  Poet. 

A  Ragged  Man. 

His  Wife. 

A  Poteen-maker. 


102 


HANRAHAN'S   OATH 

Time:    Before  the  Famine. 

Scene:    A  wild  and  rocky  place.     Door  to  left  of  a 
stone  cabin  that  was  once  the  bed  of  a  Saint. 

Mary  Gillis:  (Coming  from  right.)  Did  you 
get  any  tidings  of  him,  Margy? 

Margaret  Rooney:  All  I  heard  was  he  was  seen 
going  over  the  scalp  of  the  hill  at  daybreak. 

Mary  Gillis:  Bad  cess  to  him !  Why  wouldn't 
he  stop  in  the  house  last  night  beyond  any  other 
night  ? 

Margaret  Rooney:  You  know  well  it  was  going 
to  the  preaching  of  that  strange  friar  put  disturb- 
ance in  his  mind. 

Mary  Gillis:  Take  care  is  he  listening  to  him 
yet. 

Margaret  Rooney:  He  is  not.  I  went  in  the 
archway  of  the  chapel  and  took  a  view.  The 
missioner  is  in  it  yet,  giving  out  masses  and  bene- 
dictions and  rosaries  and  every  whole  thing.  But 

103 


104  Hanrahan's  Oath 

as  to  Owen  Hanrahan,  there  was  no  sign  of  him 
in  it  at  all. 

Mary  Gittis:  It  is  to  the  drink  houses  I  went 
searching  for  him. 

Margaret  Rooney:  He  was  never  greatly  given 
to  drink. 

Mary  Gillis:  If  he  isn't,  he  is  given  to  company 
and  he'd  talk  down  all  Ireland. 

Margaret  Rooney:  So  he  is  a  terror  for  telling 
stories,  and  it  is  yourself  made  your  own  profit 
by  it.  It  is  his  gift  of  talk  brought  the  harvesters 
that  would  live  and  die  with  him,  to  your  house 
this  five  weeks  past. 

Mary  Gittis:  Yourself  that  is  begrudging  me 
that,  where  you  want  to  keep  him  to  yourself. 

Margaret  Rooney:  So  I  would  keep  him,  I  to 
find  him.  I  wouldn't  wish  him  to  go  travelling. 
He  had  his  enough  of  hardship.  There  is  no  great 
stay  in  him. 

Mary  Gillis:  There  are  but  the  two  roads  for 
him  to  travel  from  the  scalp,  over  and  hither.  He 
to  come  this  way,  believe  me  I'll  bring  him  back  to 
the  town. 

Margaret  Rooney:    He  wouldn't  go  with  you. 

Mary  Gillis:  I  have  a  word  will  bring  him, 
never  fear. 

Margaret  Rooney:    What  word  is  that? 


Hanrahan's  Oath  105 

Mary  Gillis:  What  was  it  he  was  giving  out  to 
the  two  of  us  ere  yesterday,  the  time  he  came  back 
after  having  drink  taken  at  the  sailor's  wake? 

Margaret  Rooney:  I  don't  keep  in  mind  what 
he  said. 

Mary  Gillis:  You  maybe  remember  the  story  ne 
gave  us  of  one  Feeney  that  he  was  with  at  a  moun- 
tain still,  and  that  made  an  assault  on  a  gauger. 

Margaret  Rooney:  Feeney  was  the  name,  sure 
enough — ,  but  what  signifies  that  ? 

Mary  Gillis:  I'll  make  a  spancel  from  that 
story  will  bring  him  into  hiding  in  the  Borough. 

Margaret  Rooney:  You  might  not.  It's  little 
you  know  the  twists  of  a  poet's  mind.  He  to  have 
the  fit  of  wandering,  it  is  round  the  wide  world  he 
might  go. 

Mary  Gillis:  Hurry  on  now,  let  you  go  the 
lower  road  and  see  will  you  bring  him  any  better 
than  myself.  (Pushes  her.} — Go  on  now,  he  might 
pass  and  go  on  unknownst  to  you! 

Margaret  Rooney:  I'll  not  be  three  minutes 
going  down  the  hill.  (Goes.) 

Mary  Gillis:  (Sitting  down.)  That  you  may! 
It's  the  hither  road  he  is  coming. 

Hanrahan:  (Coming  in,  his  head  bent  down.) 
Isn't  it  a  terrible  place  we  are  living  in  and  terrible 
the  wickedness  of  the  whole  world ! 


io6  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Mary  Gillis:  What  is  it  ails  you,  Owen 
Hanrahan? 

Hanrahan:  People  to  be  breaking  all  the  laws 
of  God  and  giving  no  heed  to  the  beyond ! 

Mary  Gillis:  It  is  likely  the  preaching  of  the 
friar  put  those  thoughts  athrough  your  head. 

Hanrahan:  Murders  and  robberies  and  lust  and 
neglecting  the  mass ! 

Mary  Gillis:  Ah,  come  along  home  with  me  to 
the  dinner.  You  are  fasting  this  good  while  back. 

Hanrahan:  What  way  can  people  be  thinking 
of  gluttony,  and  the  terrors  of  the  grave  before 
them. 

Mary  Gillis:  Come  on  now  to  the  little  house, 
and  the  drop  of  drink  will  put  such  thoughts  from 
your  mind. 

Hanrahan:  Drink !  That  was  another  of  them ! 
Seven  deadly  sins  in  all ! 

Mary  Gillis:  What  call  has  a  poet  the  like  of 
you  to  go  listening  to  a  missioner  stringing  talk? 
You,  that  is  so  handy  at  it  yourself. 

Hanrahan:  A  lovely  saint  he  was!  He  came 
from  foreign.  To  let  fall  a  drop  of  scalding  water 
on  your  foot  would  be  bad,  he  said,  or  to  lay  your 
hand  on  a  hot  coal  on  the  floor;  but  to  die  with  any 
big  sin  on  your  soul ;  it  will  be  burning  for  ever  and 
ever,  and  that  burning  will  be  worse  than  any 


Hanrahan's  Oath  107 

burning  upon  earth.  To  say  that  he  did,  rising  up 
his  hand.  The  great  fear  he  put  on  me  was  of 
eternity.  Oh,  he  was  a  darling  man ! 

Mary  Gillis:  Ah,  that  is  the  way  that  class  to 
be  beckoning  flames  at  the  people,  or  what  way 
would  they  get  their  living?  Come  along  now 
where  you  will  have  company  and  funning. 

Hanrahan:  Leave  touching  me!  I  have  no 
mind  to  be  put  away  from  my  holy  thoughts. 
Three  big  mastiffs,  their  red  gullets  open  and  burn- 
ing the  same  as  three  wax  candles ! 

Mary  Gillis:  Come  along,  I  tell  you,  to  the 
comforts  of  the  town. 

Hanrahan:  Get  away,  you  hag,  before  I'll  lay  a 
hand  on  you ! 

Mary  Gillis:  After  the  good  treatment  I  gave 
you  this  five  weeks  past,  beyond  any  lodger  was  in 
the  house ! 

Hanrahan:    Be  off,  or  I'll  do  you  some  injury ! 

Mary  Gillis:  It's  kind  for  you  do  an  injury  on 
me,  the  same  as  you  did  on  the  man  that  was  sent 
before  the  judge! 

Hanrahan:    Who  was  that  ? 

Mary  Gillis:  Feeney  that  stuck  down  the 
gauger. 

Hanrahan:  Anyone  didn't  see  who  did  it — He 
was  brought  before  no  judge! 


io8  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Mary  Gillis:  You  didn't  know  he  was  taken 
and  charged  and  brought  to  the  Tuam  Assizes  ? 

Hanrahan:  They  could  have  no  proof  against 
him.  It  was  a  dark  cloudy  night. 

Mary  Gillis:  That  is  what  they  are  saying.  It 
was  in  no  fair  way  it  was  made  known  who  did  it. 

Hanrahan:  Ah  what  did  he  do  but  put  up  his 
fist  this  way  .  .  .  and  the  gauger  was  standing 
where  you  are  supposing  .  .  .  and  there  was  a 
naggin  in  poor  Feeney's  hand  (Stoops  for  a  stone} — 
and  there  lit  a  stroke  on  him  (Strikes  as  if  at  her) — 
It's  hard  say  was  it  that  knocked  him  or  was  it  the 
Almighty  God. 

Mary  Gillis:  There  is  another  thing  the  people 
are  saying. 

Hanrahan:    What  is  that? 

Mary  Gillis:  They  are  saying  there  was  another 
man  along  with  Feeney  at  the  bog-still. 

Hanrahan:    What  harm  if  they  are  saying  that  ? 

Mary  Gillis:  It  will  be  well  for  that  man  not  to 
be  rambling  the  countryside,  but  to  stop  here  in  the 
shelter  of  the  town  where  it  is  not  known.  It  is 
likely  his  name  is  given  out  through  the  baronies 
of  Galway  and  to  the  merings  of  County  Mayo. 

Hanrahan:  Little  I  care  they  to  know  I  was  in 
it.  What  could  they  lay  to  my  charge? 


Hanrahan's  Oath  109 

Mary  Gillis:  You  had  drink  taken.  You  have 
no  recollection  what  you  said  in  the  spree-house  in 
Monivea.  It  is  the  name  of  an  informer  you  have 
gained  in  those  districts,  where  you  gave  out  the 
account  of  Feeney's  deed,  in  the  hearing  of  spies 
and  of  Government  men. 

Hanrahan:  That  cannot  be  so!  An  informer! 
That  would  be  a  terrible  story ! 

Mary  Gillis:  A  poor  case  they  are  saying,  you 
to  be  roaming  the  country  free,  and  Feeney  under 
chains  through  your  fault. 

Hanrahan:  An  informer!  I'll  go  give  myself 
up  in  his  place !  I '11  swear  it  was  I  did  it!  Maybe 
I  did  too.  I  am  certain  I  hit  him  a  kick  that 
loosed  the  patch  on  my  shoe.  (Holds  foot  up). 
I'll  go  set  Feeney  free. 

Mary  Gillis:  You  cannot  do  that.  He  is  gone 
to  his  punishment,  where  he  was  convicted  of 
assault  and  attempt  to  kill. 

Hanrahan:    In  earnest? 

Mary  Gillis:  It  is  much  he  escaped  the  death 
of  the  rope.  It  is  to  send  him  to  transportation 
they  did. 

Hanrahan:    The  Lord  save  us ! 

Mary  Gillis:  Sent  out  in  the  ship  with  thieves 
and  vagabonds  to  Australia  or  Van  Dieman's 


i  io  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Land,  to  be  yoked  in  traces  along  with  blacks 
driving  a  plough  for  the  over-Government. 

Hanrahan:  Transported  and  judged!  It  is  a 
bad  story  for  me  that  judgment  is !  And  it  to  be 
brought  about  through  me  giving  out  too  much 
talk! 

Mary  Gillis:  Ah  come  along  and  get  a  needleful 
of  porter  and  we'll  have  a  good  evening  in  the 
town. 

Hanrahan:  There  will  be  no  good  evening  or 
good  morrow  come  to  me  for  ever !  Let  me  run  to 
take  his  place  in  the  ship  and  in  the  chains. 

Mary  Gillis:  Sure  it  sailed  away  yesterday. 
It  is  ploughing  his  way  across  the  green  ocean 
Michael  Feeney  should  be  at  this  hour. 

Hanrahan:  I'll  go  to  judgment  all  the  same! 
They'll  send  me  out  after  him  and  set  him  free! 

Mary  Gillis:  Not  a  fear  of  them,  and  they  hav- 
ing him  in  their  hand.  And  it's  likely  anyway 
the  ship  might  go  down  in  some  storm. 

Hanrahan:  To  have  sent  a  man  to  his  chastise- 
ment through  chattering!  That  is  not  of  the 
nature  of  friendship.  That  is  surely  one  of  the 
seven  deadly  sins! 

Mary  Gillis:  Sure  there  is  nothing  standing 
to  you  only  your  share  of  talk. 

Hanrahan:    It  is  that  was  my  ruin !    It  would 


Hanrahan's  Oath  m 

be  better  for  me  be  born  without  it,  the  same  as  a 
blessed  sheep !  It  is  the  sin  of  the  tongue  is  surely 
the  blackest  of  all!  A  man  that  died  with  drink 
in  him,  the  missioner  was  saying,  the  soul  would 
sooner  stop  in  torment  a  thousand  years  than 
come  back  to  the  body  that  made  it  so  unclean. 
And  surely  my  soul  would  think  it  worse  again 
to  be  coming  under  the  sway  of  a  tongue  that  had 
it  steered  to  the  mouth  of  the  burning  mountain, 
that  is  said  to  be  the  door  of  hell ! 

Mary  Gillis:  Ah,  it  is  your  own  talk  had  always 
pleasantness  in  it — come  on  now — the  people  love 
to  see  you  travelling  through  the  town. 

Hanrahan:  It  is  the  tongue  that  does  be  giving 
out  lies  and  spreading  false  reports  and  putting 
reproach  upon  a  neighbour,  till  a  character  that 
was  as  white  as  lime  will  turn  to  be  black  as 
coal! 

Mary  Gillis:  No,  but  good  words  yourself  does 
be  putting  out.  Whoever  you  praised  was  well 
praised. 

Hanrahan:  A  cross  word  in  this  house,  and  a 
quarrel  out  of  it  in  the  next  house,  and  fighting  in 
the  streets  from  that  again,  till  the  whole  world 
wide  is  at  war.  The  man  that  would  make  a  gad 
for  the  tongue  would  be  put  far  beyond  Alexander 
that  laid  one  around  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world ! 


ii2  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Mary  Gillis:  It  is  the  roads  would  be  lonesome 
without  the  sound  of  your  own  songs. 

Hanrahan:  To  make  silence  in  the  roads  for 
ever  would  be  a  better  task  than  was  ever  done  by 
Orpheus,  and  he  playing  harpstrings  to  the  flocks ! 

Mary  Gillis:  It  is  not  yourself  could  keep 
silence  in  the  world,  without  you  would  be  a 
ghost. 

Hanrahan:  My  poor  Feeney!  He  that  wore 
out  the  night  making  still-whiskey  would  put 
courage  into  armies  of  men,  and  the  hares  of  the 
mountain  gathered  around  him  looking  on.  I 
could  cry  down  my  eyes,  he  to  be  at  this  time  in  the 
black  hole  of  a  vessel  you  couldn't  hardly  go  into 
head  and  heels,  among  rats  and  every  class  of 
ravenous  thing !  Have  you  ere  a  knife  about  you 
or  a  sword  or  a  dagger,  that  you'll  give  it  to  me  to 
do  my  penance,  till  I'll  cut  the  tongue  out  from  my 
head  and  bury  it  under  the  hill  ? 

Mary  Gillis:  Ah,  come  along  and  do  your  pen- 
ance the  same  as  any  other  one,  saying  a  rosary 
alongside  your  bed. 

Hanrahan:  I'll  go  no  more  into  the  room  with 
lodgers  and  strangers  and  dancers  and  youngsters 
enjoying  music.  I  will  wear  out  my  time  in  this 
cabin  of  a  saint,  shedding  tears  unknownst  to 
the  world,  hearing  no  word  and  speaking  no  word 
will  be  putting  my  repentance  astray.  There  is 


Hanrahan's  Oath  113 

great  safety  in  silence!     It  will  cut  off  the  world 
and  all  of  sins  at  the  one  stroke. 

Mary  Gillis:  It  is  not  yourself  could  keep  from 
the  talk  without  you  would  be  dumb. 

Hanrahan:  So  I  will  be  dumb  and  live  in  dumb- 
ness, if  I  have  my  mind  laid  to  it !  I  will  make  an 
oath  with  myself.  (Puts  up  hands.)  By  the  red 
heat  of  anger  and  by  the  hard  strength  of  the  wind 
I  will  speak  no  word  to  any  living  person  through 
the  length  of  a  year  and  a  day !  I  will  earn  Feeney 's 
pardon  doing  that!  I'll  be  praying  for  him  on  all 
my  beads ! 

Mary  Gillis:  Ah,  before  the  year  is  out  he  will 
have  his  escape  made,  or  maybe  have  done  some 
crime  will  earn  him  punishment,  whether  or  no, 
without  any  blame  upon  yourself.  It  will  fail  you 
to  stop  in  this  wilderness.  You  were  always  fond 
of  life. 

Hanrahan:  (Sitting  down  and  taking  off  boots.) 
Bring  away  my  shoes  to  some  safe  place  to  the  end 
of  my  penance,  that  I  will  not  be  tempted  to  break 
away!     Mind  them  well  till  the  time  I  will  be 
wanting  them  again. 

Mary  Gillis:  It  is  a  big  fool  you  are  and  a 
cracked  thief  and  a  blockhead  and  a  headstrong 
ignorant  man ! 


ii4  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Hanrahan:  I  am  not  in  this  place  for  wrastling ! 
It  is  good  back-answers  I  could  give  you,  if  it 
wasn't  that  I  am  dumb ! 

MaryGillis:  I'm  in  no  dread  of  your  answers! 
I'd  put  curses  out  of  my  own  mouth  as  quick  as 
another  the  time  I  would  be  vexed ! 

Hanrahan:  Get  out  now  of  this!  The  devil 
himself  couldn't  do  his  repentance  with  the  noise 
and  the  chat  of  you !  (Threatens  her.) 

Mary  Gillis:    Whisper  now,  one  thing  only  and 
I'll  go. 
Hanrahan:    Hurry  on  so,  and  say  what  is  it. 

Mary  Gillis:  What  place  did  you  put  the  keg  of 
still-whiskey  you  were  saying  you  brought  away 
at  the  time  Feeney  ran,  the  gauger  being  stretched 
on  the  bog  ? 

Hanrahan:  What  way  can  I  whisper  it,  and  I 
under  an  oath  to  be  dumb ! 

Mary  Gillis:  Is  it  in  the  bog  you  hid  it?  Or 
within  a  ditch  or  a  drain.  Let  you  beckon  your 
hand  at  me,  the  time  I'll  give  out  the  right  place, 
and  you'll  not  break  your  promise  and  your  oath. 
Under  a  dung-heap  maybe  .  .  .  Let  you  make 
now  some  sign  .  .  . 

Hanrahan:  (Seizing  stick  and  rushing  at  her.) 
Sign  is  it  ?  Here's  signs  for  you !  My  grief  that  I 
cannot  break  my  oath ! 


Hanrahan's  Oath  1 1 5 

Mary  Gillis:  (Who  has  rushed  off  looking  back.) 
Your  oath  is  it  ?  You  may  believe  me  telling  you, 
it  will  fail  you  for  one  day  only  to  keep  a  gad  upon 
your  tongue !  (Goes.) 

(Hanrahan  shakes  fist  at  her  and  sits  down. 

Rocks  himself  and  moans. 
A  ragged  man  with  a  sack  of  seaweed  comes 
in  and  looks  at  him  timidly.) 

Coey:  Fine  day!  (Hanrahan  takes  no  notice.) 
Fine  day!  (Louder.)  Fine  day,  the  Lord  be 
praised!  .  .  .  (Hanrahan  scowls.)  What  is  on 
you?  FINE  DAY!  Is  it  deaf  you  are  ...  Is 
it  maybe  after  taking  drink  you  are  ?  To  put  your 
head  down  in  the  spring  well  below  would  maybe 
serve  you.  (Hanrahan  shakes  head  indignantly.) 
Is  it  that  you  are  after  being  bet?  A  puck  on  the 
poll  is  apt  to  put  confusion  in  the  mind.  (Another 
indignant  shake.)  Tell  me  out  now,  what  is  on  you 
or  what  happened  you  at  all? 

(Hanrahan  gets  up.  Makes  same  dumb  show 
as  he  did  to  Mary  Gillis,  stoops,  picks  up 
stone,  rushes  as  if  to  threaten  Coey.) 

Coey:  The  Lord  be  between  us  and  harm!  It 
is  surely  a  wild  man  is  in  it!  (He  throws  down 
basket  and  rushes  off  right.) 

Hanrahan:  Ah,  what  is  it  ails  you?  That  you 
may  never  be  better  this  side  of  Christmas  .  .  . 
What  am  I  doing  ?  Is  it  speaking  in  spite  of  myself 


n6  Hanrahan's  Oath 

I  am?  What  at  all  can  I  do!  I  to  speak,  I  am 
breaking  my  oath ;  and  I  not  to  speak,  I  have  the 
world  terrified.  (Sits  down  dejectedly,  then  starts.) 
What  is  that?  A  thorn  that  ran  into  me  ...  a 
whitethorn  bush.  ...  It  is  Heaven  put  it  in  my 
way.  There  is  no  sin  or  no  harm  to  be  talking 
with  a  bush,  that  is  a  fashion  among  poets.  Oh, 
my  little  bush,  it  is  a  saint  I  am  out  and  out! 
It  is  a  man  without  blame  I  will  be  from  this 
time !  To  go  through  the  whole  gamut  of  the  heat 
and  of  the  frost  with  no  person  to  be  annoying 
me  till  I  get  a  fit  of  talk  and  be  letting  out  wicked 
words,  that  is  surely  the  road  will  reach  to  Para- 
dise. It  is  a  right  plan  I  made  and  a  right  penance 
I  put  on  myself.  As  I  converse  now  with  yourself, 
the  same  as  with  a  living  person,  so  every  living 
person  I  may  hold  talk  with,  and  my  penance 
ended,  I  will  think  them  to  be  as  harmless  as  a  little 
whitethorn  bush.  It  is  a  holy  life  I  will  follow,  and 
not  to  be  annoyed  with  the  humans  of  the  world 
that  do  be  prattling  and  prating,  carrying  mischief 
here  and  there,  lavish  in  tale-bearing  and  talk! 
It  is  a  great  sin  from  God  Almighty  to  be  bally- 
ragging  and  drawing  scandal  on  one  another, 
rising  quarrels  and  rows!  I  declare  to  honest 
goodness  the  coneys  and  the  hares  are  ahead  of 
most  Christians  on  the  road  to  heaven,  where  they 
have  not  the  power  to  curse  and  damn,  or  to  do 
mischief  through  flatteries  and  chatterings  and 


Hanrahan  s  Oath  1 17 

coaxings  and  jestings  and  jokings  and  riddles  and 
fables  and  fancies  and  vanities,  and  backbitings 
and  mockeries  and  mumblings  and  grumblings 
and  treacheries  and  false  reports!  It  is  free  I  am 
now  from  the  screechings  and  vain  jabberings  of 
the  world,  in  this  holy  quiet  place  that  is  all  one 
nearly  with  the  blessed  silence  of  heaven!  (He 
takes  up  his  beads.) 

(Coey  and  Mrs.  Coey  come  on  and  look  at  him 
from  behind.) 

Coey:    A  wild  man  I  tell  you  he  is,  wild  and  shy. 

Mrs.  Coey:  Wording  a  prayer  he  would  seem  to 
be,  letting  deep  sighs  out  of  himself.  A  wild  man 
would  be  apt  to  be  a  pagan  or  an  unbeliever. 

Coey:  I  tell  you  he  rose  up  and  made  a  plunge 
at  me  and  rose  a  stone  over  my  poll.  If  it  wasn't 
for  getting  the  bag  I  left  after  me,  I  wouldn't  go 
anear  him.  It's  a  good  thought  I  had  taking  out 
of  it  the  two  shillings  I  got  for  the  winkles  I  sold 
from  the  strand,  and  giving  them  into  your  own 
charge.  .  .  .  Take  care  would  he  turn  and  make 
a  run  at  me ! 

Mrs.  Coey:  He  is  no  wild  man,  but  a  spoiled 
priest  or  a  crazed  saint  or  some  thing  of  the 
sort. 

Coey:  Striving  to  put  curses  on  me  he  was,  but 
it  failed  him  to  bring  them  out.  It  might  be  that 


ii8  Hanrahan's  Oath 

he  was  born  a  dummy  into  the  world,  and  drivel- 
ling from  his  birth  out. 

(Hanrahan  listens.} 

Mrs.  Coey:  Would  you  say  now  would  he  be 
Cassidy  Baun,  the  troubled  Friar,  that  the  love  of 
a  woman  put  astray  in  his  wits? 

Coey:  A  half -fool  I  would  say  him  to  be.  But 
it  might  be  that  he  has  a  pain  in  the  jaw  or  a  tooth 
that  would  want  to  be  drawn.  Or  is  it  that  the 
tongue  was  cut  from  him  by  some  person  had  a 
cause  against  him. 

(Hanrahan  turns  indignantly  and  puts  tongue 
out.) 

Mrs.  Coey:  He  is  not  maimed  or  ailing.  It  is 
long  I  was  coveting  to  see  such  a  one  that  would 
have  power  to  show  miracles  and  wonders,  or  to  do 
cures  with  a  gospel,  or  put  away  the  wildfire  with 
herbs. 

Coey:  Let  him  show  a  miracle  or  do  something 
out  of  the  way,  and  I'll  believe  it. 

Mrs.  Coey:  If  he  does,  it  is  to  myself  he  will 
show  it.  I  am  the  most  one  is  worthy. 

Coey:  Have  a  care.  He  is  about  to  turn 
around. 

Mrs.  Coey:  (Sitting  down.)  Let  me  put  a  decent 
appearance  on  myself  before  he  will  take  notice  of 
me.  (Begins  putting  on  the  pair  of  boots  Hanra- 


Hanrahan's  Oath  119 

han  had  given  to  Mary  Gillis1   charge,   and  which 
she  takes  from  under  her  shawl.} 

Coey:  A  pair  of  shoes!  What  way  did  they 
come  into  your  hand? 

Mrs.  Coey:  It  is  that  I  found  them  on  the 
road.  .  .  . 

Coey:  They  are  belonging  so  to  some  person 
will  come  looking  for  them. 

Mrs.  Coey:  They  are  not  but  to  myself  they 
belong  ...  it  is  that  they  were  sent  to  me  by 
messenger. 

Coey:  And  who  would  bestow  you  shoes,  you 
that  never  put  a  shoe  or  a  boot  on  you  and  the 
snow  three  feet  on  the  ground,  and  you  after  going 
barefoot  through  the  frost  of  two  score  of  years ! 

Mrs.  Coey:    There's  plenty  to  bestow  them  to 

me.     Haven't  I  a  first  cousin  went  harvesting  out 

in  England  where  there  is  maybe  shovels  full  of  gold. 

(Hanrahan  comes  across  quickly,  seizes  boots 

angrily  and  takes  them  away,  shaking  his 

fists  at  her.) 

Coey:  (Retreating.)    There  is  coming  on  him  a 
fit  of  frenzy !    Run  now,  Let  you  run ! 
(Hanrahan  seizes  and  shakes  her.) 

Mrs.  Coey:  (On  her  knees.)  Oh  leave  your 
hand  off  of  me,  blessed  father!  I'll  confess  all! 
Oh  it  is  a  miracle  is  after  being  worked  on  me! 


120  Hanrahan's  Oath 

(Another  shake,}  A  miracle  to  put  shame  on  me 
where  I  told  a  lie,  may  God  forgive  me !  on  the  head 
of  the  boots ! 

Coey:    I  was  thinking  it  was  lying  you  were. 

Mrs.  Coey:  How  well  he  knew  it,  the  dear  and 
the  holy  man!  He  that  can  read  the  hidden 
thoughts  of  my  heart  the  same  as  if  written  on  my 
brow! 

Coey:     Is  it  to  steal  them  you  did  ? 

Mrs.  Coey:  (To  Hanrahan.)  Do  not  look  at  me 
so  terrible  wicked,  and  I'll  make  my  confession 
the  same  as  if  it  was  the  Bishop  was  in  it ! 

Coey:  Is  it  that  I  am  wedded  with  a  thief  and  a 
robber ! 

Mrs.  Coey:  I  am  not  a  thief,  but  to  tell  a  lie 
I  did,  laying  down  that  I  got  them  from  my  first 
cousin,  where  I  bought  them  from  a  woman  going 
the  road. 

Coey:  That's  another  lie,  where  would  you  get 
the  money? 

Mrs.  Coey:  Your  own  two  shillings  I  gave  for 
them  that  you  put  in  my  care  a  while  ago.  Take 
the  shoes,  holy  saint,  for  I'll  lay  no  hand  on  them 
any  more.  There  never  was  the  like  of  it  of  a  start 
ever  taken  out  of  me. 

Coey:  You  asked  a  miracle  and  you  got  a  mir- 
acle you'll  not  forget  from  this  day.  (Takes  off 


Hanrahan's  Oath  121 

hat,)     I'll  never  go  against  such  things  from  this 
out.     A  good  saint  he  is,  by  hell ! 

(Margaret    Rooney    conies    on,    Hanrahan 

catching  sight  of  her  flings  down  boots 

and  crouches  behind  bush.) 

Margaret  Rooney:  Did  you  see  anyone  passing 
this  side? 

Coey:    Not  a  one. 

Margaret  Rooney:  I  am  in  search  of  a  friend  I 
have,  that  is  gone  travelling  the  road. 

Mrs.  Coey:  There  is  not  a  one  in  this  place  but 
the  blessed  saint  is  saying  out  prayers  abroad  under 
the  bush. 

Margaret  Rooney:  I  knew  no  saint  in  this  place. 
What  sort  is  he? 

Coey:  You  would  say  him  to  be  a  man  that 
has  not  a  great  deal  of  talk. 

Mrs.  Coey:  He  is  a  great  saint ;  he  is  so  saintly 
as  that  there  couldn't  be  saintlier  than  what  he  is. 
He  is  living  in  the  wilderness  on  nuts  and  the 
berries  of  the  bush,  and  his  two  jaws  being  bloomy 
all  the  time. 

Coey:  He  to  be  known,  the  people  will  come 
drawing  from  this  to  Dublin  till  he  will  have  them 
around  him  in  throngs. 

Margaret  Rooney:  (Seizing  boots.)  What  way 
did  you  get  those  shoes  ? 


122  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Coey:  It  was  the  saint  threw  them  there  in 
that  place. 

Margaret  Rooney:  What  happened  the  man 
that  owned  them? 

Mrs.  Coey:  (Pointing  to  bush.}  Sorra  one 
of  me  knows.  Go  crave  to  the  saint  under  the 
bush  to  give  out  knowledge  of  that.  It's  himself 
should  be  well  able  to  do  it.  He  beckoned  the 
hand  at  me  a  while  ago  and  told  me  all  that  ever 
I  did. 

Margaret  Rooney:  (Goes  to  back  of  bush  but 
Hanrahan  moves  round  from  her.}  I  ask  your 
pardon  father,  but  will  you  telXme  what  happened 
the  man  I  am  in  search  of  and  what  way  did  his 
shoes  come  to  this  place  ?  I  am  certain  he  would 
not  part  them  unless  he  would  be  plundered  and 
robbed.  Tell  me  where  can  I  find  him. 

Mrs.  Coey:  Do  not  be  annoying  him  now.  It 
is  likely  he  is  holding  talk  with  heaven. 

Margaret  Rooney:  (To  Coey.}  It  is  maybe  you 
yourself  took  the  shoes. 

Coey:  Let  you  stop  putting  a  stain  on  my  char- 
acter. I  that  never  put  a  farthing  astray  on 
anyone ! 

Margaret  Rooney:  What  at  all  can  I  do  to  know 
is  he  living  or  dead.  Or  is  he  gone  walking  the 
round  world  barefoot ! 


Hanrahan's  Oath  123 

Mrs.  Coey:  Hurry  on  and  get  news  from  that 
man  is  under  the  bush,  before  there  might  angels 
come  would  give  him  a  horn  and  rise  him  through 
the  sky ! 

Margaret  Rooney:  Saint  or  no  saint,  I'll  drag 
an  answer  out  of  him ! 

(She  goes  to  him,  he  moves  away  from  her 
round  bush.  She  takes  hold  of  his 
shoulders.) 

Coey:    Ah,  there  will  thunder  fall  on  her ! 

(Hanrahan  tries  to  escape  but  Margaret 
Rooney  holds  him  and  looks  at  his  face.) 

Margaret  Rooney:  Is  it  you,  Owen,  is  in  it !  Oh 
what  is  it  happened  at  all ! 

Coey:  Will  you  hearken  to  her  speaking  to  him 
as  if  he  was  some  common  man. 

Margaret  Rooney:  Tell  me  now  what  parted 
you  from  your  shoes  and  are  you  sound  and  well  ? 
.  .  .  Answer  me  now.  ...  I  think  you  very 
dark  not  speaking  to  me.  It  would  be  no  great 
load  on  you  to  say,  "God  bless  you"!  (He  keeps 
moving  on,  she  holding  and  following  him.)  Is  it 
your  spirit  I  am  looking  on,  or  your  ghost  ? 

Mrs.  Coey:  Look  at  how  he  will  not  let  his  eye 
rest  upon  a  woman,  the  holy  man ! 

Margaret  Rooney:  Get  him  to  speak  one  word 
to  me  and  you  will  earn  my  blessing!  .  .  .  Do 


124  Hanrahan's  Oath 

you  not  recognise  me,  Owen,  and  I  standing  in 
the  pure  daylight!  .  .  .  Don't  now  be  making 
strange,  but  stretch  over  to  the  road  to  be  chatting 
and  talking  like  you  used.  .  .  . 

Coey:  He  has  lost  the  talk,  I  am  telling  you. 
It  is  but  by  signs  he  makes  things  known. 

Mrs.  Coey:  It  is  that  the  people  of  this  district 
are  not  worthy  to  hear  his  voice. 

Margaret  Rooney:  Is  it  that  you  went  wild  and 
mad,  finding  the  place  so  lonesome  ?  What  at  all 
but  that  would  cause  you  to  go  dumb  ? 

Mrs.  Coey:  Have  some  shame  on  you.  Can't 
you  see  he  is  not  acquainted  with  you  at  all? 

Margaret  Rooney:  Did  there  some  disease  fall 
upon  you,  or  some  sickness?  Why  wouldn't  you 
come  back  with  me,  and  I  would  tend  you  and  find 
you  a  cure?  .  .  .  Let  you  answer  me  back,  if  it  is 
but  to  spit  at  me!  Is  it  that  I  vexed  you  in  any 
way,  and  the  stocking  I  mended  with  kind  worsted 
covering  your  foot  yet  ?  .  .  .  (He  draws  it  back.} 
Is  it  to  break  my  heart,  you  will?  ...  Is  it  to 
put  ridicule  on  me,  and  to  be  making  a  mockery 
of  me  you  are?  Letting  on  to  be  dumb!  (He 
weeps.}  I  had  great  love  for  him  and  I  thought 
he  had  love  for  me.  (She  turns  away.  He  is 
stretching  out  his  arms  to  her  when  Mary  Gilhs  comes 
on.  Hanrahan  breaks  away,  making  a  grab  at  boots, 
he  sits  down  to  put  them  on,  making  a  face  at  her.} 


Hanrahan's  Oath  125 

Is  that  yourself,  Mary  Gillis  ?    It  is  in  the  nick  of 
time  you  are  come. 

Mrs.  Coey:  (To  Mary  Gillis.)  Give  me  back 
now  the  two  shillings  I  paid  you  for  that  pair  of 
shoes. 

Margaret  Rooney:  Will  you  draw  down  on  these 
fools  of  the  world  that  this  is  no  saint,  but  Owen 
Hanrahan  ? 

Mrs.  Coey:  No,  but  she  is  under  delusions! 
A  man  from  God  he  is !  Miracles  he  can  do,  and 
he  living,  and  at  the  time  he'll  be  dead  there  is 
apt  to  be  great  virtue  in  his  bones. 

Margaret  Rooney:  Tell  them,  can't  you,  that 
he  is  Owen  Hanrahan? 

Mary  Gillis:  (Puts  arms  akimbo.)  And  what 
is  it  makes  you  say  this  to  be  Owen  Hanrahan? 

Margaret  Rooney:  Are  you  gone  cracked  along 
with  them? 

Coey  and  Mrs.  Coey:  That's  the  chat !  That's 
the  chat! 

Mary  Gillis:  There  will  a  judgment  come  on 
you,  Margy  Rooney,  for  putting  on  a  holy  Chris- 
tian, is  dwelling  in  the  blessed  bed  of  a  saint, 
the  name  of  a  vagabond  heathen  poet  does  be 
filling  the  long  roads  with  his  follies  and  his 
lies! 

(Hanrahan  scowls  at  her.) 


i26  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Coey:  That's  right!  That's  right!  A  great 
shame  the  name  of  this  holy  friar  to  be  mixed  with 
any  sinful  person  at  all. 

Margaret  Rooney:  Is  it  the  whole  world  has 
gone  raging  wild? 

Mary  Gittis:  Hanrahan  the  poet  is  it?  God 
bless  your  health!  That  is  a  man  should  not  be 
spoken  of  in  this  saintly  place.  He  is  the  great- 
est schemer  ever  God  created !  There  is  no  beat 
to  him!  Putting  lies  on  his  own  father  and 
mother  in  Cappaghtagle!  Letting  his  father  be 
buried  from  the  poorhouse  that  was  gaoled  for 
sheepstealing!  Sure  that  one  would  hang  the 
Pope! 

(Hanrahan  makes  faces  at  her  again.} 

Margaret  Rooney:  Give  over  now  cutting  him 
down!  (Tries  to  put  hand  over  her  mouth.} 

Mary  Gittis:  (Freeing  herself.}  It  is  not  dumb 
I  am  myself,  the  Lord  be  praised,  the  same  as  this 
holy  man.  And  I  say,  if  you  must  put  a  name  on 
him,  let  it  be  the  name  of  some  poet  worth  while, 
such  as  Carolan  or  Virgil  or  Sweeney  from  Conne- 
mara.  It  is  Sweeney  that  is  great!  (Margaret 
Rooney  tries  to  stop  her,  but  she  backs  and  goes  on.} 
It  is  himself  can  string  words  through  the  night- 
time. But  as  to  poor  Owen  Hanrahan,  it  is  in- 


Hanrahan's  Oath  127 

human  songs  he  makes.     Unnatural   they   are, 
without  mirth  or  loveliness  or  joy  or  delight. 

(Hanrahan  writhes  with  anguish  and  makes 

threatening  signs.) 

You'd  laugh  your  life  out,  listening  to  the  way 
he  was  put  down  one  time  by  Sweeney,  the 
Connemara  boy ! 

(Hanrahan  throws  himself  down  and  bites 
the  grass.) 

Margaret  Rooney:  If  you  are  Hanrahan,  let  you 
put  her  down  under  a  poet's  curse.  And  if  you  are 
a  saint,  let  you  make  a  grasshopper  of  her  with  the 
power  of  a  saint ! 

Mary  Gillis:  It  is  bawneen  flannel  and  clean, 
that  dumb  friar  is  wearing ;  but  as  to  Owen  Han- 
rahan, it  is  a  stirabout  poet  he  is,  and  greasy  his 
coat  is,  with  all  the  leavings  he  brings  away 
from  him  and  he  begging  his  dinner  from  door  to 
door. 

(Hanrahan  gets  up  and  rushes  at  her.    She 

shrieks   and   runs   right.    She   knocks 

against    Feeney    who    is    coming    on. 

Hanrahan  stops  short  and  goes  quickly 

into  cabin.) 

Feeney:  Mind  yourself,  woman!  You  all  to 
had  me  knocked,  barging  and  fighting  and  raising 
rings  around  you!  I'll  make  you  ask  my  pardon 
so  sure  as  my  name  is  Feeney ! 


128  Hanrahan's  Oath 

MaryGillis:    Michael  Feeney  is  it?     (He  nods.) 
Margaret  Rooney:    What  is  it  brings  you  here? 

Feeney:  This  is  a  place  if  you'd  go  astray,  you'd 
go  astray  very  quick  in  it.  Crosscutting  over  the 
mountain  I  was,  till  I'd  face  back  to  my  own  place 
near  Tuam.  And  I  got  word  there  is  a  friar  from 
foreign  here  in  some  place,  giving  out  preachings 
and  absolutions. 

Mrs.  Coey:  No,  but  a  holy  man  that  is  in  the 
cabin  beyond.  A  great  saint  he  is,  out  and 
out! 

Feeney:  That'll  serve  me  as  well,  where  I 
missed  attending  mass  this  fortnight  back,  where  I 
was  .  .  .  travelling  ...  In  very  backward 
places,  I  was.  It  is  home  I  am  facing  now,  and 
I'd  sooner  give  out  my  confession  to  a  stranger 
than  to  our  own  priest,  might  be  questioning  me 
where  is  my  little  mountain  still,  he  being  a  Father 
Matthew  man,  that  wouldn't  so  much  as  drink 
water  out  of  a  glass  but  from  a  teacup. 

Coey:  You  did  well  coming  to  himself  that  can 
put  no  question  to  you  at  all. 

Mrs.  Coey:  My  grief  that  he  cannot  word  out  a 
rosary  or  give  us  newses  of  the  fallen  angels,  being 
dumb  and  bereft  of  speech. 

Feeney:  That  will  suit  me  well,  so  long  as  his 
ears  are  not  closed,  and  that  he  can  get  me  free 


Hanrahan's  Oath  129 

from  going  to  confession  for  another  quarter  of  a 
year  on  this  side  of  St.  Martin's  Day. 
(He  kneels  at  door.) 

Margaret  Rooney:  (Trying  to  move  him  away.) 
Do  not  be  pushing  on  him  where  he  might  be  in  a 
sleep  or  a  slumber. 

Mrs.  Coey:  (Awed.)  It  is  maybe  away  in  a 
trance  he  might  be,  and  the  angels  coming  around 
him.  It  is  in  that  way  his  miracles  and  wonders 
come  to  him. 

Coey:  (Getting  behind  him.)  Mind  yourself. 
He  might  likely  burst  demented  out  from  his  trance 
and  destroy  the  world  with  one  twist  of  the 
hand. 

Mrs.  Coey:  He  is  bended  now,  holy  father.  Be 
so  liberal  as  to  reach  your  hand  for  the  good  of  his 
soul. 

Mary  Gillis:  It  would  maybe  be  right,  the 
whole  of  us  to  go  in  and  see  is  there  a  weakness 
come  upon  him  with  his  fast. 

(A  hand  is  hurriedly  stretched  out.) 

Feeney:  (Having  knelt  a  moment  shouts:)  What 
is  that  I  see!  I  recognise  that  yellow  patch! 
Owen  Hanrahan's  boot!  (Jumps  up  and  drags.) 
Come  out  now,  out  of  that ! 

Margaret  Rooney:  Let  you  leave  dragging  him ! 
(Tries  to  stop  him.) 


130  Hanrahan's  Oath 

Feeney:  (Dragging  him  out  with  a  loud  laugh.) 
Is  it  yourself,  Owen  Hanrahan,  is  setting  up  to  be 
no  less  than  a  saint  ?  Is  it  for  sport  or  for  gain  you 
are  working  miracles  and  giving  out  benedictions? 

Hanrahan:    Is  it  not  transported  you  are ! 

Feeney:  Why  should  I  be  transported,  without 
you  would  be  wishful  of  it? 

Hanrahan:  Taken  and  judged  and  sent  out  to 
Van  Dieman's  Land! 

Feeney:  It  is  seemingly  well  pleased  you  would 
be,  I  to  be  there,  and  my  neck  in  the  hemp  along 
with  it. 

Hanrahan:  Is  that  the  thanks  you  are  giving 
me,  for  doing  penance  under  dumbness,  on  the 
head  of  you  being  gaoled  in  a  ship! 

Feeney:  Little  you'd  care,  I  to  linger  my  life 
out  on  a  treadmill  or  withering  in  a  cell ! 

Hanrahan:  Don't  I  tell  you  I  am  working  out 
my  repentance  with  the  dint  of  my  grief,  where  it 
was  through  my  talk  you  were  made  a  prisoner, 
and  brought  to  the  Court,  and  led  away  under 
chains,  and  blacks  maybe  beating  you  with  whips. 

Feeney:  What  are  you  raving  about,  making 
me  out  a  rogue  and  putting  that  stain  on  my  name, 
I  that  never  stood  in  a  court,  or  a  dock,  or  was 
brought  away  in  a  ship,  or  ever  rattled  a  chain,  or 
put  my  head  upon  a  block ! 


Hanrahan's  Oath  131 

Hanrahan:  Having  the  name  of  an  informer 
put  on  me  for  your  sake ! 

Feeney:  Is  it  that  you  are  after  being  an 
informer?  Giving  out  to  the  world  the  hidden 
bog-hole  where  I  have  my  still! 

Hanrahan:    I  did  not ! 

Feeney:  And  you  lurking  in  a  cleft  and  letting 
on  to  be  wording  your  beads!  But  I'll  knock 
satisfaction  out  of  you.  I'll  have  you  baulked! 

Hanrahan:    It  is  likely  the  gauger  gave  it  out! 

Feeney:  He  wouldn't  put  the  people  against  him 
saying  that.  A  neighbour  made  me  out  and  told 
me  he  swore  he  disremembered  all  that  happened. 
Death  and  destruction  on  me,  but  he's  a  more 
honourable  man  than  yourself ! 

Margaret  Rooney:  What  have  you  against  one 
another  so? 

Feeney:    Blessed  if  I  know. 

Hanrahan:  If  I  haven't  anything  against  him, 
there  are  others  I  have  it  against.  (To  Mary 
Gillis.}  Let  you  be  ashamed  and  under  grief, 
for  the  way  you  have  us  made  fools  of.  It  is  up 
here  in  this  cabin  yourself  has  a  right  to  stop  for 
the  centuries  earning  my  forgiveness  to  the  end  of 
your  life,  sleeping  in  your  pelt  and  scraping  your 
bare  feet  on  the  rock,  like  myself  was  doing,  and 
speechless,  and  without  defence,  the  same  as  I  was 


i32  Hanrahan's  Oath 

myself,  through  the  story  you  made  up  and  the 
lies! 

Margaret  Rooney:  That's  the  chat,  Owen! 
That  is  yourself  is  come  back  to  us ! 

Mrs.  Coey:  Well  now,  for  a  saint  of  silence 
hasn't  he  a  terrible  deal  of  talk? 

Mary  Gillis:  As  savage  as  a  wasp  out  of  a 
bottle  he  is !  His  talk  is  seven  times  sharper  than 
before,  and  a  holy  terror  to  the  whole  world.  I'll 
go  call  to  the  true  friar  at  the  Chapel  to  say  are  you 
not  bound  to  silence  for  a  year  and  a  day  by  your 
oath! 

Hanrahan:  (Putting  arm  v  round  Margaret 
Rooney  and  shaking  fist  at  Mary  Gillis  as  he  takes  up 
his  coat.)  You  will,  will  you?  Well  I  am  not 
bound!  How  would  I  know,  the  time  I  took  the 
oath  in  my  lone,  there  would  be  schemers  coming 
around  me  challenging  and  annoying  me?  It  is 
yourself  that  broke  the  bond,  following  after  me! 
And  you  have  a  great  wrong  done  to  me.  The 
next  time  I  will  take  an  oath  of  silence  it  is  in  the 
market  square  I  will  take  it,  the  night  before 
the  spring  fair,  and  the  pigs  squealing  from  every 
paling  and  every  car,  and  hawkers  bawling,  sooner 
than  to  be  narrowed  up  on  a  crag  where  I  cannot 
make  my  escape  from  the  tongue  of  a  woman  that 
is  more  lasting  than  the  sole  of  my  shoe!  It's  bad 
behaviour  you  showed,  with  your  lies,  and  a  great 


Hanrahan's  Oath  133 

shame  for  you,  and  you  being  a  widow  and  ad- 
vanced out  a  while.  It's  a  great  wonder  the  Lord 
to  stand  the  villainy  is  in  you!  I'll  make  you  go 
easy!  The  time  you  rose  me  out  of  my  senses, 
tearing  away  my  character,  and  I  being  dumb,  I 
had  myself  promised  I  would  make  a  world's 
wonder  of  you  in  the  bye  and  bye,  and  my  year 
and  a  day  being  passed!  You  disgrace,  you! 
The  curse  of  my  heart  on  you!  Go  on  now,  you 
withered  sloe  bush,  you  cranky  crab  fish,  you  hag, 
you  rap,  you  vagabond !  May  your  day  not  thrive 
with  you,  and  that  you  may  be  seven  hundred 
times  crosser  this  time  next  year,  and  it  is  good 
curses  I'll  be  making,  and  the  first  I'll  put  on  you 
is  the  curse  of  dumbness,  for  that  is  the  last  curse 
of  all! 


NOTE  TO  HANRAHAN'S  OATH 

I  think  it  was  seeing  a  performance  of  "The  Dumb 
Wife  "  in  New  York,  and  having  a  memory  of  Molidre's 
Lucinde,  that  made  me  wonder  how  it  would  fare  with 
a  man  forced  to  be  silent  in  the  same  way.  I  do  not 
count  Jonson's  Epicoene,  for  he  had  been  with  much 
labour  trained  for  the  part.  So  Hanrahan,  poet  and 
talker,  borrowed  from  Mr.  Yeats'  "Celtic  Twilight," 
took  the  sudden  plunge  into  silence. 

I  have  looked  back  into  an  old  copybook  where  I 
began  the  writing,  and  I  see  that  Mary  Gillis  was  at 
the  first  given  more  of  the  argument,  and  told  him  that 
"To  speak  lets  the  bad  blood  out  of  you,  the  same  as 
to  vomit,  and  leaves  the  soul  clean";  and  "it  is  worse 
to  have  bad  thoughts  than  bad  words,  and  to  be  curs- 
ing and  damning  in  the  mind."  And  I  see  also  I  had 
written  for  my  own  guidance  that  "  it  is  after  reaching 
the  height  of  sanctity  the  fall  is  greatest";  and  "how 
far  the  carrying  out  comes  short  of  the  imagining!" 
And  this  last  I  found  true  in  the  writing  of  the  play, 
as  Hanrahan  did  in  the  keeping  of  his  vow. 


134 


SHANWALLA 


135 


LAWRENCE  SCARRY  .     .     .     .    A  Stableman. 
HUBERT  DARCY        ....     His  Master. 

BRIDE  SCARRY His  Wife. 

OWEN  CONARY A  Blind  Beggar. 

PAT  O'MALLEY 
JAMES  BROGAN 
IST  GIRL 
2ND  GIRL 
HEAD  CONSTABLE 
IST  POLICEMAN 
2ND  POLICEMAN 
A  BOY 


136 


SHANWALLA 

ACT  I 

An  old  harness  room,  with  bridles  etc.  Canary  is 
sitting  at  fire,  has  just  finished  a  meal  and  is 
putting  down  mug  and  plate,  awkwardly. 
Bride  Scarry  is  sitting  on  table,  working  at 
bodice  of  a  dress. 

Conary:  Many  is  the  place  where  you  stretched 
out  your  hand  to  me,  Bride  Scarry;  over  the 
mering  in  Clare  the  time  you  had  a  harbour  with 
the  Brogans  that  were  of  your  kin ;  and  after  that 
when  you  shifted  over  to  Pat  O'Malley  that  was  of 
your  kin;  and  after  that  again  when  you  took 
service  in  the  big  house  of  the  Darcys.  And  any- 
thing you  would  bring  to  me,  if  it  was  but  a  potato 
itself  I  would  be  sure  of  it,  and  I  had  no  need  to  go 
sniffing  the  same  as  a  yard  dog  to  know  was  the  bit 
sweet  or  stinking,  wholesome  or  harmful,  was 
thrust  into  the  hand  of  the  man  is  blind  and  de- 
feated in  the  sight.  Another  thing,  I  am  well 
pleased  with  the  meal  you  gave  me  this  day, 
knowing  it  to  be  your  own,  and  you  free  from 

137 


138  Shanwalla 

service  and  this  fortnight  back  the  woman  of 
Lawrence  Scarry's  house,  and  having  your  own 
handling  and  your  way. 

Bride:  Was  it  not  a  great  kindness  he 
did,  Owen  Conary,  taking  me  for  his  wife,  and 
I  having  nothing  in  my  hand  and  not  so  much 
as  good  friends  would  be  a  back  to  him.  I'm 
in  dread  it  is  no  good  helper  I  can  be  to  him  at 
all. 

Conary:  He  is  well  off  getting  you ;  for  you  are 
one  that  was  born  at  sunrise  and  at  the  birthday 
of  the  year.  But  it  is  yourself  and  myself  were 
under  near  the  one  misfortune  up  to  this,  I  being  a 
beggar  and  poor  that  must  strive  to  please  all  and 
to  humour  them,  trying  to  knock  out  the  bite  I'd 
eat ;  and  you  being  a  girl  under  orders  in  whatever 
house  you  were  in,  and  having  no  leave  to  please 
yourself  at  any  time,  and  not  knowing  in  the 
moon  of  May  what  roof  might  be  giving  you  shelter 
in  the  moon  of  the  badgers. 

Bride:  That  was  so  indeed,  and  I  should  be  well 
content. 

Conary:  A  man  to  care  you,  and  he  an  honest 
boy  in  favour  with  his  master,  and  plenty  to  have 
come  into  your  hand,  there  is  little  left  now  for 
you  to  covet  or  desire. 

Bride:  It's  hard  say.  I  do  be  thinking  at  some 
times  if  I  owned  some  grandeur  such  as  a  flock  of 


Shanwalla  139 

hens,  or  a  flower  garden,  it  would  make  me  more 
settled  in  the  world.  But  having  them  maybe  I 
might  be  craving  after  something  would  be  better 
again.  (Laughs.) 

Canary:  That  was  the  way  with  myself  in  my 
early  time.  I  used  to  be  hungering  and  hoping  to 
see  so  much  as  one  human  face  before  I'd  die. 
But  since  I  went  so  far  I  am  satisfied  to  wait  till 
the  walls  of  this  world  will  be  broke  for  me,  and  I 
will  get  a  view  of  them  that  have  lost  the  body  and 
are  upon  the  other  side. 

Bride:  You  to  see  such  things  at  this  time  itself 
it  would  be  natural,  for  those  that  are  blind  should 
see  more  than  such  as  have  their  earthly  sight. 
They  do  be  saying  one  of  Mr.  Darcy's  old  fathers 
does  be  seen  around  this  place,  as  it  is  here  he  kept 
his  horses  and  his  hounds. 

Canary:  So  he  might  be  seen.  A  great  rider  he 
was,  sitting  up  straight  on  his  white  horse  that  had 
the  name  of  some  castle  out  in  foreign,  in  Germany 
I  think  it  is,  Iron  Brightside.  Many  a  one  has 
seen  him  galloping  through  the  demesne  in  the 
night  time,  and  the  huntsman  with  him  in  his  red 
jacket  riding. 

Bride:  There  is  Larry  would  not  give  in  to 
such  things.  But  surely  the  priests  know  there 
are  ghosts,  and  tell  you  they  are  poor  souls  that 
died  in  trouble. 


Shanwalla 


Canary:  The  shadow  that  wanders  for  a  while 
until  it  has  the  debts  paid  it  had  to  pay.  And 
when  it  is  free  it  puts  out  wings  and  flies  to  heaven. 

Bride:  There  was  a  woman  from  the  North 
used  to  be  telling  me  that  every  time  you  see  a 
tree  shaking  there  is  a  ghost  in  it. 

Canary:  When  one  goes  that  has  a  weight  on 
the  soul  that  is  more  than  the  weight  of  the  body, 
it  cannot  get  away,  but  stays  wandering  till  some 
one  has  courage  to  question  it. 

Bride:  That  is  what  the  woman  told  me.  To 
have  courage  to  question  them  you  must,  or  they 
will  have  no  power  for  to  speak.. 

Canary:  I  knew  one  Kearney  met  a  woman,  a 
stranger.  "Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you?" 
says  he,  for  he  thought  she  was  some  country- 
woman gone  astray.  "There  is,"  says  she.  And 
she  told  him  of  some  small  debts  she  had  left 
unknown  to  her  friends,  not  more  than  ten  shillings 
in  all,  and  when  she  died  no  more  had  been  said 
about  it.  So  her  friends  paid  these  and  said 
masses,  and  shortly  after  she  appeared  to  him 
again.  "  God  bless  you  now,  "  she  said,  "for  what 
you  did  for  me,  for  now  I  am  at  peace."  But  if 
Kearney  did  not  question  her,  she  would  not  have 
power  to  tell  what  ailed  her.  And  it  is  certain  that 
a  mother  will  come  back  to  care  the  child  that  is 
left  after  her. 


Shanwalla  141 

Bride:  I  never  saw  my  mother  that  was  taken 
at  the  very  hour  of  my  birth.  • 

Canary:  It  is  likely  she  had  a  hand  in  you ;  for 
a  child  that  gets  help  from  the  other  side  will 
grow  to  be  the  best  in  the  world. 

Bride:  They  must  surely  be  uneasy  about 
those  they  left  after  them,  or  why  would  they  quit 
for  one  minute  only  that  good  place  where  they 
are  gone. 

Canary:  Coming  back  to  give  help,  that  is 
what  they  do  be  doing.  Believe  me,  if  it  is  good  to 
have  friends  among  the  living,  it  is  seven  times 
better  to  have  them  among  the  dead. 

Bride:  Whist  now !  Larry  will  say  no  one  will 
be  talking  of  such  things  unless  it  might  be  a 
woman  or  a  fool ! 

Scarry:  (Coming  in.)  Is  that  you  Owen  Con- 
ary  keeping  the  woman  of  the  house  in  talk? 

Canary:  (Changing  manner.)  Myself  it  is, 
Lawrence  Scarry!  Calling  to  mind  I  was  the 
grandeurs  of  this  place  in  the  long  ago,  the  time 
the  Darcys'  hounds  would  be  putting  a  fox  in 
trouble!  (Sings.) 

Hark,  hark,  the  sounds  increase 
Each  horn  sounds  a  bass 
Away  to  Chevy  Chase 
Poor  Reynard  is  in  view; 


142  Shanwalla 

All  round  the  sunny  lake 
Lough  Cutra  then  he  takes 
But  they  without  mistake 
His  footsteps  did  pursue. 
'Twas  on  Ballyturn  hill 
Poor  Reynard  made  his  will  .  .  . 

Scarry:  Stop  your  noise  now  and  get  out  of 
sight.  I  saw  the  Master  coming  and  he  crossing 
the  bridge ! 

Bride:  Come  with  me  Owen  till  I'll  lead  you  to 
where  there  is  a  warm  wad  of  straw  in  the  shed 
beyond.  You  can  rest  yourself  there  for  a  while. 
You  might  miss  your  step  if  I  brought  you  up  the 
ladder  into  the  loft. 
(They  go  out.) 

Scarry:  That's  it,  put  him  out  of  sight  in  some 
place.  (He  takes  bit  and  stirrups  and  rubs  them 
with  a  chamois  leather,  humming  as  if  grooming  a 
horse.) 

Darcy:     (At  door.)     Are  you  there  Larry? 
Scarry:    I  am,  sir. 

Darcy:  (Coming  in.)  What  way  is  the  horse 
today? 

Scarry:    Grand,  sir.     Grand  out  and  out. 

Darcy:  I'd  be  here  sooner  but  for  having  to 
attend  the  Bench  in  Cloon.  Magistrates  are 
scarce  these  times. 


Shanwalla  143 

Scarry:  There's  good  daylight  yet.  You  can 
take  a  view  of  him. 

Darcy:  (Going  to  side  and  opening  door  comes 
back,  shutting  it.}  He  doesn't  look  too  bad. 

Scarry:  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say?  He's 
altogether  a  beauty ! 

Darcy:  Oh,  Larry,  do  you  think  can  he  win  in 
the  race? 

Scarry:  He  to  fail  I'll  give  you  leave  to  do  your 
choice  thing  on  me. 

Darcy:    There  will  be  good  horses  against  him. 

Scarry:  There's  a  good  breed  in  him.  Never 
fear  he'll  best  them. 

Darcy:    That  dealer  in  Limerick  owns  a  bay  mare 
has  a  great  name. 

Scarry:    You  may  bet  your  estate  on  Shanwalla. 

Darcy:  That  mare  won  all  before  her  at 
Turloghmore. 

Scarry:  Shanwalla  that  will  get  the  victory 
over  all  Ireland. 

Darcy:   You  are  likely  making  too  much  of  him. 

Scarry:  There's  no  one  can  go  stronger  than 
him,  and  you  to  be  trotting  him  itself;  and  as 
gentle  as  that  you  could  bridle  him  with  the  ashes 
of  a  spent  thread  of  silk. 

Darcy:  It  would  frighten  you  to  see  the  leaps 
they  are  putting  up  on  the  course. 


144  Shanwalla 

Scarry:    There  isn't  a  leap  in  any  part  would 
baulk  him. 
Darcy:    It  will  be  a  fierce  race,  a  fierce  pace. 

Scarry:  I'll  pity  them  that  will  make  their 
start  with  Shanwalla!  They  to  try  and  catch 
him,  he'll  take  the  cracked  strain,  and  away  with 
him. 

Darcy:  He  to  win  I'll  have  my  pocket  well 
filled.  And  believe  me,  you'll  be  no  loser. 

Scarry:  It's  time  indeed  you  to  do  some  good 
thing  for  me,  and  I  wedded  and  joined  with  a  wife. 

Darcy:    It  wasn't  I  that  bade  you  take  a  wife. 

Scarry:  It  was  you  put  me  stopping  in  this  bare 
barrack  of  a  deserted  old  kennel,  till  I  near  died 
with  the  lonesome. 

Darcy:  Well  you  have  company  now,  what- 
ever complaints  she  may  put  out  of  her. 

Scarry:  The  time  she  was  a  poor  serving  girl  in 
your  own  kitchen  she  was  better  treated  than  to  be 
housed  under  rafters  in  a  loft. 

Darcy:    A  loft  is  an  airy  place. 

Scarry:  A  loft  the  crows  wouldn't  stop  in,  but 
to  be  going  in  and  out  of  it  with  the  breeze. 

Darcy:  It  to  be  airy  you  will  not  be  stopping  in 
it  wasting  your  time  of  a  morning. 

Scarry:  It  is  gone  to  rack  too.  It  was  made 
since  God  made  the  world.  It's  as  old  as  Adam. 


Shanwalla  145 

There's  a  great  traffic  in  it  of  rats,  till  they  have  it 
holed  like  a  sieve. 

Darcy:  Holes  are  very  handy  for  you  to  be 
looking  down  into  the  manger  to  see  is  Shanwalla 
eating  his  feed. 

Scarry:  And  no  way  to  go  up  in  it  but  only  a 
ricketty  ladder  does  be  shaking  like  a  bough  in  a 
big  wind. 

Darcy:  That  is  great  good.  It  will  keep  you 
sober  more  than  if  you  gave  your  oath  to  the 
missioners.  You  would  be  in  dread  to  go  face  it 
and  you  after  taking  a  drop. 

Scarry:  I  tell  you  I  wouldn't  care  if  I  had  to 
climb  a  rope  to  the  skies  if  it  wasn't  for  my  woman 
of  a  wife. 

Darcy:  I'm  not  too  well  pleased  with  you  Larry 
for  bringing  in  a  companion  till  after  the  race 
would  be  won.  Take  care  would  she  be  chattering 
about  the  horse. 

Scarry:  You  need  be  in  no  dread.  Wise  head 
and  shut  mouth.  That's  the  way  with  her. 

Darcy:  I  wouldn't  wish  her  to  be  bringing 
company  around  the  place. 

Scarry:  No  fear  of  her  coveting  to  ask  any  per- 
son to  come  see  the  poor  way  she  is  lodged. 

Darcy:  That's  a  good  reason  to  keep  you  down. 
I  have  no  mind  anyone  to  come  peeping  and  prying, 


146  Shanwalla 

striving  to  see  him  and  to  give  out  a  report  of 
him. 

Scarry:  There  is  no  one  will  get  any  sight  of 
him  till  such  time  as  he  will  come  sparkling  on  to 
the  course,  and  he  tossing  his  head,  like  as  if  you 
were  pitching  buttons. 

Darcy:  Take  care  would  you  let  anyone  come 
next  or  near  him. 

Scarry:    I  know  my  business  better  than  that. 

Darcy:  Give  no  one  leave  to  touch  or  to  handle 
him.  It  is  a  little  thing  would  put  a  horse  astray. 

Scarry:  Ah,  horses  in  this  country  is  a  hardy 
class.  They  wouldn't  die  through  swallowing  a 
buttercup  the  same  as  they  do  out  in  France. 

Darcy:    It's  impossible  to  be  too  careful. 

Scarry:  It  wasn't  myself  lamed  the  chestnut, 
leaping  on  to  the  road,  that  the  sinews  spread  on 
him. 

Darcy:  It's  not  of  making  leaps  I  am  afraid. 
There  are  other  things  might  lame  him  such  as  a 
thorn  in  the  knee. 

Scarry:    He  got  no  thorns  under  my  care. 

Darcy:  A  hayseed  in  the  eye  might  bring  blind- 
ness on  him. 

Scarry:    It  might,  and  my  own  eyes  being  blind. 

Darcy:    A  prick  of  a  nail. 

Scarry:    He's  done  with  shoeing  for  this  time. 


Shanwalla  14? 

Darcy:  A  pinch  of  some  poison  in  the  drinking 
water. 

Scarry:  Without  they'd  poison  the  whole  river 
it  would  fail  them  to  bring  that  about. 

Darcy:  I  tell  you  I'll  be  easier  in  my  mind 
when  next  Friday  will  be  passed. 

Scarry:  So  you  would  be  too.  It's  best  not 
praise  or  dispraise  a  crop  before  the  June  will  be 
out. 

Darcy:  I  am  wakeful  fearing  for  him  in  the 
night  time. 

Scarry:  I  wonder  you  wouldn't  shift  him  over 
to  your  own  yard  and  you  being  so  uneasy. 

Darcy:    I  wouldn't  say  but  it  might  be  best. 

Scarry:    Do  it  so,  and  I'll  get  my  sound  sleep. 

Darcy:    He  might  get  cold  in  the  new  stable. 

Scarry:    Let  him  wear  his  blanket. 

Darcy:  Sure  enough,  there's  no  eye  like  the 
master's. 

Scarry:    I  often  heard  you  say  that. 

Darcy:    It's  hard  trust  anyone. 

Scarry:    Please  yourself. 

Darcy:  It  might  not  be  worth  while  for  the 
short  time  till  the  race. 

Scarry:  This  is  Tuesday.  There's  three  days 
to  it  yet. 


148  Shanwalla 

Darcy:  Wait  till  I'll  take  another  look  at  him. 

Scarry:  Look  here  now  Master  Hubert.  You'll 

bring  him  out  of  this  tonight  or  I  myself  will  go 
out  of  it. 

Darcy:  What  are  you  talking  about? 

Scarry:  I  will  not  stop  in  charge  of  him,  and  I 
not  to  be  trusted. 

Darcy:  Who  said  you  were  not  trusted? 

Scarry:  You  said  it  now. 

Darcy:  I  did  not. 

Scarry:  I  say  that  you  did. 

Darcy:  That's  a  big  lie. 

Scarry:  Your  own  is  bigger  again. 

Darcy:  That's  no  way  to  speak  to  me. 

Scarry:  I'll  put  up  with  it  no  longer. 

Darcy:  All  right  so.     You  can  go  tomorrow. 

Scarry:  I'll  go  here  and  now. 

Darcy.  You  cannot  till  tomorrow.  I  have  no 
one  to  care  the  horse  tonight. 

Scarry:  Where  is  the  trainer  you  had  engaged? 

Darcy:  That's  nothing  to  you.  You  have  to 
keep  charge  till  morning. 

Scarry:  Let  him  earn  the  big  money  he  is  paid. 

Darcy:  You  know  well  he  is  gone  this  fortnight. 

Scarry:  Let  you  send  and  call  him  back. 

Darcy:  He  is  gone  for  good  and  all. 


Shanwalla  149 

Scarry:  My  share  of  trouble  with  him!  It's 
little  we'll  cry  after  him,  myself  and  Shanwalla. 

Darcy:  Go  your  own  road  tomorrow  but  you 
cannot  quit  my  service  till  then. 

Scarry:  If  I  do  stop  it  is  not  to  oblige  you 
Mr.  Darcy,  but  because  I  have  a  great  regard  for 
that  horse. 

Darcy:  All  right!  We'll  say  good-bye  to  one 
another  in  the  morning.  I've  stood  enough  of  you 
and  of  your  tongue!  (Goes.) 

Scarry:  Ah,  my  joy  go  with  you!  (Sings 
ostentatiously:) 

The  lands  he  did  forsake,  and  swam  across  the 

lake 
But  to  his  great  mistake  the  hounds  kept  him  in 

view, 

Our  County  Galway  joy 
Is  Persse  of  Castleboy  .  .  . 

(Brogan  and  O'Mattey  come  in.) 

O'Malley:    Fine  evening,  Lawrence. 

Scarry:  Is  that  you  Pat  O'Malley?  Is  it  up 
from  Limerick  you  are  after  coming,  James  Brogan? 

Brogan:  Going  on  to  the  fair  of  Loughrea  I 
am,  where  I  have  business  with  a  dealer  from 
Cappaghtagle. 

O'Malley:  We  just  called  in  to  see  what  way 
yourself  and  Bride  agree  together.  It  is  what 


150  Shanwalla 

they  were  telling  me,  your  life  is  like  marriage 
bells. 

Brogan:  We  were  waiting  beyond  behind  the 
little  wall  of  bushes  till  Darcy  would  be  gone. 
You  might  not  be  well  pleased  he  to  have  seen  us. 

Scarry:  Little  I'd  care  he  to  see  you  or  not  to 
see  you ! 

O'Malley:  They  are  saying  he  gives  you  no 
leave  so  much  as  to  cross  the  threshold  of  the  door. 

Brogan:  There  is  surely  some  great  treasure  in 
this  old  kennel  of  a  place  that  he  has  no  mind  to  let 
slip  from  him.  His  eyes  stuck  to  the  window  and 
his  ears  to  the  hinges  of  the  lock. 

Scarry:  Whatever  he  does  I  had  enough  of  it! 
I  have  a  mind  to  break  out  loose  and  let  the  whole 
world  get  a  view  of  that  great  treasure  at  the  fair 
of  Loughrea  tomorrow! 

Brogan:  Is  that  the  way  with  you?  But  you'd 
be  in  dread  of  him  to  do  it. 

Scarry:  I'm  in  no  dread  of  him.  It  is  his  most 
enemy  I  would  make  welcome  on  this  night. 

O'Malley:  I  thought  he  had  a  great  smack  for 
you.  Ye  that  were  two  comrade  lads  in  your 
young  days,  as  near  as  the  tree  to  the  bark. 

Scarry:  He  went  too  far  in  the  way  he  went 
on.  I  have  a  temper  of  my  own.  There's  an  end 
of  my  service  in  this  place. 


Shanwalla  151 

Brogan:  (Sitting  down.)  I  wonder  now  is  the 
horse  as  good  as  what  they  say? 

Scarry:    He's  good  enough. 

Brogan:  Darcy  is  in  dread  they  were  telling  me 
of  letting  so  much  as  shadow  be  seen  on  the  wall  in 
any  place  there  might  be  humans  passing. 

O'Malley:  A  foolish  man,  a  foolish  man.  It 
is  not  putting  a  wall  around  the  field  will  stop  the 
cuckoo  from  quitting  it. 

(Bride  comes  in.  She  has  put  on  the  dress  she 
had  been  working  at,  and  dressed  her 
hair.  She  is  startled  when  she  sees 
guests.} 

Bride:  Is  that  yourself,  Pat?  I  didn't  know 
there  was  anyone  in  it. 

0'MaUey:  Is  it  so.  And  here  is  another  kins- 
man of  your  own  that  you  didn't  see  this  good 
while.  A  great  pity  it  failed  him  to  come  to  the 
wedding  and  the  dance. 

Brogan:    Will  you  give  me  a  welcome,  Bride? 

Bride:  It  is  my  custom  to  give  a  welcome  to  all 
that  come  in  at  Lawrence  Scarry's  door. 

Scarry:  Well  now  aren't  you  very  dressed  out 
today  more  than  any  other  day? 

O'Mattey:  It  is  the  wedding-dress  she  is  wear- 
ing sure  enough. 


i52  Shanwalla 

Bride:  I  was  putting  a  few  wilts  in  it  where  it 
was  too  wide  and  I  am  after  fitting  it  on. 

O'Malley:  Thinking  to  wear  it  you  are  I  sup- 
pose on  the  day  of  the  Inchy  races. 

Bride:  I  am,  so  long  as  the  weather  will  be 
good.  I  would  not  wish  the  rain  to  interfere  with 
the  flowers  (Strokes  dress.} 

Brogan:  Grandeur  and  finery  to  be  so  plentiful 
with  you  it  is  a  great  wonder  you  not  to  have  silk 
shoes  on  your  feet. 

Scarry:  So  she  will  have  them,  and  a  suit  of 
changing  colours,  that  she  will  be  laughing  with 
the  delight  of  them. 

0' Motley:  I  wonder  you  to  go  handle  that  skil- 
let that  might  spoil  the  neatness  of  your  gown. 

Bride:  Put  it  on  the  fire,  you,  Lawrence,  where 
you'll  be  in  need  of  a  drop  of  warm  water,  for  it  is 
time  for  you  give  Shanwalla  his  feed.  (Goes.) 

Brogan:  Shanwalla!  That  is  a  name  is  well 
known  through  the  five  provinces ! 

Scarry:    There's  little  known  about  him  yet. 

Brogan:    More  maybe  than  you  think. 

Scarry:  No  one  saw  him  since  he  came  back 
from  the  trainer.  It  is  within  in  the  demesne 
he  gets  his  exercise  since  then. 

Brogan:  If  they  didn't  see  him  they  heard  of 
him. 


Shanwalla  153 

Scarry:  I  gave  out  nothing  or  spoke  his  name 
at  all  since  the  time  he  was  brought  back  into  my 
charge. 

Brogan:    There  is  maybe  one  that  did  speak. 

Scarry:    Who  was  that? 

Brogan:    The  man  that  owns  him. 

* 
Scarry:    You're  out.     It  is  he  himself  forbade 

me  to  let  one  word  about  him  out  of  my  mouth. 

0' Motley:  There  are  other  ways  of  giving  out 
news  besides  with  the  tongue.  To  be  looking 
down  as  if  there  was  a  secret  between  yourself 
and  the  depths  of  the  earth,  and  to  be  whispering 
with  yourself  and  starting,  and  to  be  giving  little 
hints  about  some  thing  you  could  tell  if  you  had  a 
mind;  and  to  be  as  if  deaf  and  dumb  every  time 
the  race  is  so  much  as  spoken  of.  That's  what 
makes  the  lads  that  meet  him  full  sure  he  has 
the  winner  in  his  hand.  There's  not  a  man 
within  the  seven  counties  but  has  got  wind  of 
him. 

Brogan:  Whether  or  no,  it's  impossible  at  this 
time  to  get  any  odds  against  Shanwalla. 

O'Mattey:  Did  you  put  anything  on  him  your- 
self, Lawrence? 

Scarry:  I  did  not.  Where  would  I  meet  with 
anyone  to  make  bets  with?  I  was  hoping  for  good 
odds. 


154  Shan  walla 

Brogan:  You're  hoping  for  what  you  won't 
get.  There  is  but  one  way  for  you  to  make  your 
profit  on  the  race. 

Scarry:    The  one  way  is  to  back  him. 

Brogan:    It  is  not,  but  to  bet  against  him. 

Scarry:    He  will  surely  win. 

Brogan:  That  was  said  of  many  a  horse  that 
it  failed  after  to  get  the  goal. 

Scarry:  There'll  be  no  failing  in  him.  The 
jockey  is  one  that  will  ride  him  steady  and  will  not 
let  him  renage. 

O'Malley:  I  knew  a  man  out  in  Athlone  had 
not  so  much  as  a  red  halfpenny,  and  it  was  a 
horse  he  backed  at  Mullingar  races,  and  that  had 
no  great  name,  put  a  large  fortune  into  his  hand. 

Brogan:  I  remember  the  race.  It  was  a  grey 
was  the  favourite,  Hill  of  Allen  is  the  name  was  on 
him.  There  was  no  other  horse  fit  to  come  near 
him. 

O'Malley:    My  man  that  bet  against  him. 

Scarry:    What  way  did  he  win  so? 

Brogan:  He  had  knowledge  of  the  horse  and 
that  he  was  fidgety  at  the  start — nervous  like 
— till  he'd  set  out.  So  he  made  objection  to  every 
start  that  was  made,  till  he  had  him  dancing  wild, 
rearing  up  to  the  skies,  and  flakes  flying  from  his 
bit.  By  the  time  the  real  start  was  made,  in  place 


Shan  walla  155 

of  going  forward  it  is  a  side  leap  he  made,  and 
threw  the  jockey,  and  no  more  about  him. 

Scarry:    That  was  a  very  roguish  thing  to  do. 

O'Malley:  Ah  what  roguish!  If  God  allotted 
riches  for  some  people  and  allotted  more  to  be  in 
poverty,  it  is  best  for  a  man  to  look  out  for  himself. 
That  man  I  tell  you  had  debts  down  on  him,  and 
since  that  time  he  grew  into  riches  and  is  his  own 
master. 

Brogan:  No  one  putting  orders  on  him  to  go 
there  or  hither,  and  no  need  ever  to  humble  himself 
to  another. 

Scarry:  The  man  that  would  make  me  an  offer 
to  do  a  trick  of  the  sort  it  would  be  the  worst  day 
ever  went  over  him.  It's  a  thing  I  wouldn't  listen 
to  from  the  Queen  under  her  crown. 

Brogan:  Ah,  by  your  own  telling,  Darcy  doesn't 
give  you  such  good  treatment  you  should  be  slav- 
ing your  life  out  for  him  the  way  you  do. 

Scarry:  Whatever  I  do  for  him  this  is  the  last 
night  I'll  be  doing  it.  The  horse  will  be  going  to 
his  own  stables  in  Ravahasy  tomorrow. 

O'Mattey:  Is  it  that  this  is  the  last  night  you 
have  charge  of  him? 

Scarry:  That's  what  I  said.  And  I'll  take  good 
charge  of  him.  There's  no  enemy  will  make  any 


156  Shanwalla 

headway  putting  him  astray.  I'll  stop  waking 
with  him  through  the  night  time. 

Brogan:  We'll  stop  along  with  you.  I  have 
here  a  pack  of  cards. 

O'Malley:  There's  a  drop  here  in  the  bottle  I 
have.  You  won't  feel  the  time  passing. 

Scarry:  I'll  be  best  stopping  alone.  The  night 
is  not  long  passing  since  the  days  took  a  stretch. 

Brogan:  It's  more  likely  sleep  will  come  upon 
you  than  if  you  would  be  taking  a  hand  with  the 
cards. 

Scarry:  I'll  bid  Bride  to  put  down  black  tea 
for  me  that  will  keep  me  waking.  The  tea  is  very 
lively. 

O'Malley:  That  is  a  poor  thing  to  go  drink.  It 
will  set  the  heart  uneasy  and  leaping  within  you. 

Scarry:  (Pointing  to  door.}  Well,  boys,  I'll 
put  you  on  your  road  as  far  as  the  river,  where  I'll 
be  getting  a  pail  of  pure  water  in  the  pool  that  is 
below  the  bridge.  The  skillet  is  on  the  boil  that  I 
can  take  the  chill  off  of  it.  It  is  time  for  the 
horse  get  his  feed. 

Brogan:  I'll  engage  it  is  good  feeding  he  is 
getting.  What  is  it  you  are  giving  him? 

Scarry:    Everything  of  the  best. 

O'Malley:  There's  some  says  new  milk  to  be 
very  serviceable. 


Shanwalla  157 

Scarry:  Ah,  it's  not  fattening  a  pig  I  am.  I 
wouldn't  go  as  far  as  that.  But  meal  and  water 
and  good  oats  having  mixed  up  with  them  an  odd 
time  a  couple  of  fresh  eggs. 

0' Motley:    That's  great  diet,  God  bless  him! 

Brogan:  How  often  now  would  you  give  him 
that  in  the  day? 

Scarry:  Three  times,  and  no  muzzle  but  to  let 
him  measure  his  own  belly.  It's  a  poor  thing  to 
send  a  horse  out  hungry  to  a  race. 

O'Malley:  A  naggin'  of  whiskey  is  a  thing  now 
I  saw  give  great  courage  at  the  start. 

Brogan:  There  was  a  red  mare  I  used  to  be 
with  throve  on  nothing  so  well  as  split  peas.  A 
great  horse — she'd  ate  you  if  she  had  a  foal. 

Scarry:  The  oats  we  have  is  as  hard  as  any  sort 
of  peas  you  could  meet.  It  was  harvested  in  the 
heat  of  last  August  two  years. 

Brogan:    Is  that  it  within  in  the  sack? 

Scarry:    It  is  not,  but  within  in  the  bin  it  is. 

Brogan:  A  lock  on  it  the  same  as  if  it  was  coined 
gold.  I  suppose  Darcy  gives  it  out  himself? 

Scarry:    He  does  not.     ( Unlocks  it.) 

Brogan:  (Looking  in.)  And  the  sieve  locked  up 
along  with  it. 

Scarry:  That's  the  master's  orders.  And 
Bride  that  has  to  scald  it  every  day. 


158  Shanwalla 

Brogan:  (Fingering  oats.)  It  is  seemingly 
middling  good. 

Scarry:  Ah,  what  middling?  Sure  it  weighs 
near  fifty  pound  to  the  bushel.  (Shakes  sieve.) 
Do  you  hear  it  rattling  the  same  as  grains  of 
shot? 

Brogan:    Will  you  be  giving  it  to  him  now? 

Scarry:  I  will  not  till  I'll  have  the  water  drawn 
and  give  him  a  drink.  I  must  go  get  it  now. 

Brogan:  I'd  like  well  to  get  one  view  of  him. 
Open  now  the  door. 

Scarry:  I  will  not  do  that.  He's  someway 
nervous ;  he  to  be  aware  of  a  stranger  late  or  early 
it  would  startle  and  disturb  him. 

Brogan:    I  am  well  used  to  handling  horses. 

Scarry:  You  wouldn't  handle  this  one.  You 
to  go  in  to  him  offering  to  give  him  a  feed  or  a 
drink,  you  should  keep  your  seven  yards  out  from 
him  or  you'd  get  his  hocks  in  your  face ! 

O'Malley:    He  must  be  very  violent  and  hurtful. 

Scarry:  It's  only  with  strangers  he  does  be 
that  way.  The  minute  he'll  feel  them  coming 
he'll  show  a  very  roguish  eye.  But  as  to  myself, 
he'd  give  me  leave  to  let  off  gunpowder  in  his 
manger,  or  to  squeal  the  bagpipes  around  his  stall. 

O'Malley:  It  is  given  in  to  Brogan  that  he  has  a 
way  with  him. 


Shanwalla  159 

Scarry:  The  trainer  himself  would  not  get  leave 
to  comb  his  mane  or  his  tail.  It's  the  work  of  the 
world  to  get  a  blacksmith  with  courage  to  put  a 
shoe  on  him.  Come  on  now,  it's  time  for  me  draw 
the  water. 

Brogan:  (Sitting  down.}  I'll  follow  you.  I 
should  take  out  of  my  shoe  a  pebble  that  preyed 
on  me  and  I  coming  the  road. 

Scarry:     (At  door}     Hurry  on  so.     I'm  waiting. 

O'Malley:  Is  that  now  the  old  forge  is  in  the 
corner  of  the  yard? 

Scarry:  It  is,  and  there  used  to  be  two  smiths 
working  in  it  every  day  of  the  year. 

O'Malley:  The  bellows  should  be  broke  by 
this.  Or  is  there  a  bellows  in  it  at  all? 

Scarry:  The  handle  is  in  it, — wait  till  I'll  show 
you. 

(They  go  out,  Scarry  taking  pail} 

Brogan:  (Calling  out}  I'll  be  after  ye!  (Gets 
up,  looks  out  door,  takes  lid  off  the  saucepan.  Takes 
a  couple  of  small  packets  wrapped  in  blue  paper 
from  his  pocket.  Puts  one  back  and  shakes  contents 
of  other  into  saucepan.  Bride  Scarry  has  come  to 
other  door,  and  stands  looking  at  him} 

Bride:  What  is  that  you  are  doing,  James  Brogan  ? 

Brogan:  (Startled)  I  am  following  after 
Lawrence  that  went  on  to  the  bridge. 


160  Shanwalla 

Bride:  (Going  between  him  and  door}  I  saw 
you  putting  some  thing  into  the  skillet. 

Brogan:  There's  some  see  more  than  is  in  it  to 
see.  It  is  your  sight  that  spread  on  you. 

Bride:  I  am  surer  of  my  own  sight,  James 
Brogan,  than  I  am  of  your  word. 

Brogan:  Is  it  since  you  joined  with  the  Scarrys 
you  are  grown  so  proud  to  be  running  down  your 
own  breed? 

Bride:  It  is  well  I  know,  whatever  brought  you 
here,  you  are  at  no  good  trade. 

Brogan:  Is  it  to  rob  you  think  me  to  be  come? 
I  see  no  great  sign  of  riches  ab6ut  the  place.  It  is 
to  a  better  house  than  this  I  would  go  and  I  search- 
ing out  profit  for  myself.  I  tell  you  Bride  Scarry 
for  all  your  pride  it  is  no  great  match  that  you 
made. 

Bride:  I  got  an  honest  man,  and  that  is  what 
you  never  were  yourself.  For  you  did  not  deal 
right  and  fair  with  them  that  trusted  you  and 
employed  you. 

Brogan:  It  is  you  yourself  drove  me  from 
honest  ways  the  time  you  turned  your  own  face 
against  me. 

Bride:  My  face  was  against  you  from  the  time 
I  knew  your  ugly  behaviour,  an  army  man — a 
deserter — I  know  what  it  was  brought  you  into 


Shan  walla  161 

Liverpool  gaol.    I  tell  you  I  am  well  satisfied 
having  my  face  turned  towards  a  better  man. 

Brogan:  You  could  have  made  a  good  man  of 
me  and  a  well  doing  man  if  you  had  but  taken  me 
in  hand.  I  give  you  my  oath  you  are  the  only 
woman  was  ever  shut  up  in  my  heart. 

Bride:  Do  you  think  with  this  foolish  talk  to 
turn  me  from  what  I  saw?  I  know  well  you  have 
the  mischief  in  your  mind. 

Brogan:  Is  it  living  near  Darcy  has  put  these 
suspicions  into  you? 

Bride:  It  is  not,  but  only  what  I  know  about 
yourself. 

Brogan:  What  high  notions  you  have  learned 
since  you  quitted  Munster?  A  great  judge  you 
are  of  tgood  or  bad,  as  if  you  were  the  biggest  in 
the  world! 

Bride:  It  is  Lawrence  will  judge  your  behaviour. 
I  will  tell  him  what  I  saw.  How  do  I  know  was 
it  to  do  him  some  injury  you  put  that — whatever 
it  was — into  the  water. 

Brogan:    You'll  tell  him  no  such  thing. 

Bride:  I  will,  and  let  you  make  out  your  own 
case. 

Brogan:  Didn't  you  get  very  cross  and  bold! 
Your  voice  raised  and  shrill  the  same  as  some 
fierce  woman  in  a  fight ! 


1 62  Shan  walla 

Bride:  It  is  he  will  take  you  in  hand  so  soon 
as  he  will  come  back. 

Brogan:  Whatever  I  may  want  to  do,  never  fear 
I'll  do  it  in  the  spite  of  his  teeth! 

Bride:    I  will  bring  all  your  bad  deeds  to  light! 

Brogan:  You  are  making  a  great  mistake! 
Give  me  your  promise  to  be  quiet  or  I'll  gag  your 
mouth.  I'll  master  you! 

Bride:  You  might  not  get  leave  to  do  that.  It 
is  the  Almighty  is  our  master  in  everything. 

Brogan:  You  need  not  think  to  escape  me !  I'll 
come  down  on  you!  I'll  put  right  fear  on  you. 
I'll  make  you  go  easy  from  this  out — I'll  banish 
you  out  of  the  world. 

Bride:     God  will  not  forgive  you  those  threats. 
Brogan:    I'll  destroy  Lawrence  along  with  you! 

Bride:  Living  or  dead  I'll  be  against  you,  and 
you  trying  to  do  injury  to  my  man!  (Brogan 
clutches  her,  she  calls  out}  Lawrence!  Lawrence! 

Brogan:  I'll  put  you  under  the  clay!  I'll 
have  the  life  of  you. 

Bride:  (Trying  to  free  herself)  It  is  hard  to 
quench  life ! 

Darcy:  (Catting  from  the  yard]  Are  you  calling 
Lawrence,  Mrs.  Scarry?  He's  not  here. 


Shanwalla  163 

Brogan:  (Releasing  her)  It's  Darcy!  What 
way  will  I  get  out  of  this! 

Bride:    You  can  go  out  the  coach-house  door. 
I'll  give  you  time  to  escape,  and  let  you  never  let 
me  see  one  sight  of  you  again !     (Brogan  goes) 
(Bride  puts  lid  on  kettle,  puts  it  aside.) 

Darcy:     (Coming  in)     Where  is  Larry? 
Bride:    He'll  be  here,  sir,  in  a  minute. 

Darcy:  Did  he  tell  you  he  had  a  falling  out 
with  me  this  morning? 

Bride:  He  did  not,  sir. 

Darcy:  He  is  too  short  in  his  temper. 

Bride:  That  would  be  a  pity. 

Darcy:  He  is  too  full  of  suspicions. 

Bride:  I  wouldn't  think  that. 

Darcy:  The  minute  I  say  a  word  he  thinks  I 
mean  more  than  is  in  it,  and  up  with  him  like  a 
bursting  bottle,  that  you  daren't  go  near  him  or 
speak  reason  to  him. 

Bride:  Oh  you  could,  sir.  He  has  a  great  re- 
spect for  you. 

Darcy:  So  have  I  a  great  respect  for  him.  But 
I  am  not  without  a  spirit  of  my  own,  and  some  of 
these  days  he'll  maybe  go  too  far. 

Bride:    He  would  be  sorry  to  do  that. 


1 64  Shan  walla 

Darcy:    Well  now  if  you  wish  to  help  him 

Bride:  That  is  my  wish  indeed,  to  be  a  helper 
to  him. 

Darcy:  I'd  be  glad  you  to  keep  a  watch  on  him, 
and  to  quieten  him  down  any  time  he  will  be 
getting  these  high  notions  into  his  head,  and  make 
him  keep  that  sharp  tongue  of  his  in  order. 

Bride:  I  will  do  that,  sir.  He  would  be  sorry 
to  give  you  any  annoyance.  He  thinks  the  world 
and  all  of  you. 

Darcy:  And  another  thing.  Any  time  he  might 
be  cross  or  have  a  drop  taken,  or  be  anyway  put 
out  at  all,  let  you  keep  him  out  of  my  way,  for  I'd 
be  sorry  to  have  words  with  him  again,  or  any 
quarrel  at  all. 

Scarry:  (Coming  in  with  pail)  Give  me  here 
the  skillet,  Bride. 

Bride:  (Taking  it  and  holding  it  behind  her) 
I  have  to  heat  some  more  water. 

Scarry:    What  is  in  it  will  do. 

Bride:  It  will  not.  (She  pour  sit  into  a  pan  and 
puts  on  shelf)  It  won't  take  only  a  minute.  There 
is  the  big  kettle  you  can  pour  some  in. 

Scarry:  (Pouring  and  putting  on  fire)  Hurry 
on  now.  Did  you  bring  the  eggs? 


Shanwalla  165 

Bride:  I  have  a  couple  in  the  loft,  I'll  go  get 
them. 

Scarry:  (Sarcastically)  Let  you  hurry  so,  till 
Mr.  Barcy  will  be  satisfied  we  are  not  neglecting 
his  horse. 

Darcy:  It's  not  that  brought  me.  I'll  not  be 
stopping. 

Bride:  Do  not  go  sir,  till  I  will  come  back.  I 
have  a  thing  that  must  be  told  out,  and  that  it  is 
right  for  you  to  hear. 

Scarry:  Go  do  your  business  .now,  and  don't 
mind  talking  till  you'll  come  back  (Pushes  her  out 
half  playfully] .  Then  stoops,  takes  up  paper  Brogan 
had  thrown  in  ashes,  takes  dip  candle  out  of  a  tin 
candlestick,  puts  paper  under  to  steady  it  and  puts 
back  on  mantleshelf) . 

Darcy:  You  were  put  out  Larry  a  while  ago  at 
me  saying  I  was  uneasy  about  the  horse. 

Larry:    He  is  your  own  property. 

Darcy:  That's  not  it,  but  there  are  things  you 
don't  understand. 

Scarry:  It's  likely  enough  I  have  bad  under- 
standing. 

Darcy:  There's  a  bad  class  of  people  going 
through  the  world. 


1 66  Shanwalla 

Scarry:  I  don't  need  understanding  to  know 
that  much. 

Darcy:  Have  done  with  humbugging.  I  have 
been  given  sure  information  that  there  will  be  an 
attempt  made  against  Shanwalla. 

Scarry:     Let  them  do  their  best.     The  ruffians ! 

Darcy:  Do  you  see  now  that  it  is  best  to  bring 
him  over  to  my  own  yard?  But  I  depend  on  you 
to  come  along  with  him.  I  have  no  one  I  could 
trust  him  with  but  yourself. 

Scarry:  I'll  come  so.  But  why  didn't  you  tell 
me  that  in  the  commencement? 

Darcy:    You'll  come  now,  tonight? 

Scarry:  I  cannot  until  morning,  till  I'll  ready  a 
lodging  there  beyond  for  the  wife. 

Darcy:  Come  early  so,  before  there  will  be 
people  moving  about.  Here  is  the  key  of  the 
stable.  I  have  another  for  my  own  use.  Don't  let 
it  out  of  your  own  hand ! 

Scarry:  (Putting  key  on  a  nail.)  I  will  come 
at  the  brink  of  dawn. 

Darcy:    There  is  some  noise  like  a  fall. 

Scarry:  It  is  likely  the  rats.  You  would  swear 
at  some  times  there  to  be  armies  battling  in  the 
house. 


Shanwalla  167 

Darcy:     Like  a  little  scream  I  thought  I  heard. 

Scarry:  You'd  hear  every  class  of  noise  in  this 
place.  There's  no  doubt  but  rats  are  a  terror.  I 
don't  know  why  is  it  they  are  in  the  world  at 
all. 

Canary:  (Bursting  door  open)  Come  out  here 
for  the  love  of  God,  Lawrence  Scarry,  and  see 
what  has  happened  your  wife!  (Lawrence  rushes 
out.} 

Darcy:  (Seizing  Conary}  What  is  the  matter? 
What  has  happened?  Where  is  she? 

Conary:  Out  there  abroad  on  the  stones.  A 
fall  I  heard.  (Scarry  rushes  out.} 

Conary:    And  like  a  little  cry.  ...  I  made  my 
way  to  it  from  the  shed  where  I  was  .    .    .  and  my 
foot  struck  against  something  that  was  the  ladder 
that  had  fallen  to  the  ground. 
(A  low  cry  heard  outside.} 

Darcy:    My  God! 

Conary:  I  stooped  down  my  hand,  and  I  felt 
a  little  head  that  I  knew  to  be  her  head,  and  I 
raised  it  up  but  it  fell  back  this  way  (Makes  sign 
with  hand}  on  the  flags.  .  .  .  What  is  this  that 
is  wet  on  my  palm? 

Darcy:    It  is  blood. 


1 68  Shan  walla 

Scarry:  (Coming  in  with  her  body  in  his  arms). 
Make  way  for  her!  She  is  gone  out  of  our  hand! 
(Lays  her  down.} 

Darcy:    My  God!    That  cannot  be! 

Scarry:  (Kneels  and  lays  his  head  on  her  breast.} 
O  Bride!  My  darling  and  my  first  love! 

Canary:     (Kneeling) 

Brigit,  break  the  battle  of  death  before  her! 

Let  the  cloak  of  Mary  be  under  her  head! 
Come  young  Michael  lead  her  by  the  hand 

To  the  country  of  the  angels,  to  the  white 
Court  of  Christ! 


CURTAIN 


ACT  II 

Scene:  Two  days  later.  Same  as  last,  but  a  settle 
bed  in  the  room.  There  are  bottles  and  pipes 
lying  about,  and  ends  of  five  large  candles  in 
brass  candlesticks.  Scarry  is  sitting  by  the  fire 
with  head  in  hands.  O'Malley  comes  in. 

O'Malley:  It  should  ease  your  mind,  Lawrence, 
the  wake  to  be  over  and  all  to  have  passed  so  nice 
and  so  comfortable.  (Pauses  but  Scarry  is  silent.) 
Ah,  no  wonder  you  to  be  lonesome  and  lonesome 
looking!  Very  sudden  she  went  indeed;  never  a 
word  out  of  her  they  were  telling  me,  from  the 
time  you  brought  her  from  whe^e  she  was  lying  on 
the  stones  and  laid  her  down  upon  the  floor. 
(Another  pause.)  But  there  is  no  one  but  must  say 
you  did  your  best  for  her,  living  or  dead,  putting  a 
good  coffin  on  her  and  leaving  her  down  with  her 
own  people  in  the  graveyard  of  Eserkelly.  And 
everyone  is  talking  of  the  wake — nothing  scarce  in 
it  but  all  plentiful.  But  with  all  the  drink  was  in 
it  there  was  no  leaping  or  playing  or  funning,  for 
there  was  no  one  but  was  sorry  for  her.  Is  it  a 
fact  now  that  Darcy  himself  sent  provision  from 

169 


1 7°  Shanwalla 

the  big  house,  even  to  the  five  white  candles  that 
were  kindled  and  burning  around  her?  (Scarry 
nods.}  Well  it  was  a  mournful  thing  to  happen, 
but  we  cannot  have  our  own  way  always,  and  you 
have  a  right  not  to  neglect  yourself,  but  to  give 
over  fretting,  for  it's  likely  you  have  a  long  life 
before  you. 

Scarry:  (With  a  bitter  laugh.)  A  long  life  is 
it?  That  is  a  thing  my  most  enemy  would  wish 
to  me. 

O'Malley:  Ah,  your  grief  will  wear  itself  out 
after  a  while,  where  it  was  the  will  of  God. 

Scarry:  (With  another  laugh.)  That's  the  talk 
of  women  and  of  fools !  And  why  would  God  have 
any  spite  against  me  more  than  any  other  one? 

O'Malley:  Well  there's  no  one  at  all,  they  do 
be  saying,  but  is  deserving  of  some  punishment 
from  the  very  minute  of  his  birth. 

Scarry:  And  is  it  for  the  sin  of  the  apple  you 
are  drawing  down  that  curse  upon  me?  There  is 
no  fair  play  in  that. 

O'Malley:  Sure  it  is  allotted  to  every  Christian 
to  meet  with  his  share  of  trouble. 

Scarry:  It  is  a  bad  lot  that  fell  upon  myself! 
It  is  no  way  fair  trouble  to  have  been  settled  for  me 
in  the  clouds  of  the  sky  at  the  time  I  made  my  first 
start  in  the  world. 


Shanwalla  171 

O'Malley:  You  maybe  did  some  contrary  deed 
yourself,  without  putting  blame  upon  the  skies. 

Scarry:  I  tell  you  I  made  no  bad  deed  to  drag 
me  down  more  than  another.  I  was  no  robber 
or  treacherous  friend !  I  harmed  no  person  young 
or  old  or  did  this  or  that !  I  coveted  no  gift  from 
the  riches  of  the  kings  of  the  earth,  or  broke  the 
bars  of  the  treasury  of  heaven ! 

O'Malley:    Ah,  where's  the  use  of  talking? 

Scarry:  God  to  have  any  grudge  against  me 
wouldn't  it  be  enough  to  let  it  fall  on  myself  and 
not  to  leave  it  on  my  companion  to  pay  the  pen- 
alty? What  call  had  the  armies  of  heaven  to 
bring  away  the  woman  had  no  sharpness  in  her 
mouth?  It  is  a  great  loss  to  the  world  that  little 
laugh  to  be  banished  out  of  it! 

O'Malley:  It  will  not  serve  you  to  be  roaring 
and  running  this  way  and  that  way  like  a  mare 
would  be  screeching  after  her  foal  athrough  the 
rocks. 

Scarry:  What  way  did  it  fail  the  harm  to  fall 
on  the  horse  was  in  it  and  that  I  took  delight  in  ? 
Hadn't  he  a  name  big  enough  to  satisfy  the  pride 
and  the  covetousness  of  death?  Oh,  Bride,  my 
heart  is  linked  to  you  yet,  that  you  could  draw  me 
to  the  ends  of  the  grey  world ! 

O'Malley:  Lie  down  now  on  the  bed  and  take 
your  rest,  where  you  never  closed  an  eye  the  two 


172  Shanwalla 

nights  since  she  went  from  you.  It  is  the  passion 
of  sleep  that  has  you  racked  and  that  is  turning 
you  to  be  mad  and  wild. 

Scarry:  (Stumbles  over  to  side  of  bed,  then  turns 
back.}  What  way  would  I  lie  in  my  warmth,  and 
she  being  frosty  cold  in  Eserkelly,  and  a  made 
grave  all  that  is  left  to  her ! 

O'Malley:  There  is  no  one  but  will  tell  you  that 
you  will  surely  come  to  her  again,  on  the  far  side  of 
the  world. 

Scarry:  There  is  no  world  of  the  living  on  the 
far  side !  That  is  a  deception  and  a  vanity !  She 
to  be  living  she  would  not  leave  me  my  lone,  if  she 
had  to  break  through  the  flags  of  the  floor  of 
heaven !  We  to  die  there  is  nothing  left  of  us  but 
as  if  a  breeze  of  wind  that  is  passed  away,  and  no 
more  about  it. 

O'Malley:  Take  but  one  half  hour's  sleep  I  say, 
and  your  senses  will  come  back  to  you  and  your 
reason. 

Scarry:  I  wish  to  God  you  could  put  me  in  my 
sleep  for  seven  years  or  seven  quarters  of  the  year 
itself !  That  would  be  very  good.  Is  there  drink 
enough  left  in  the  wake-house  to  bring  down  sleep 
and  forgetfulness?  (Seizes  bottle  and  pours  into  a 
pewter  mug,  then  puts  it  down  again.}  Oh,  Bride, 
what  am  I  saying?  What  way  can  I  lie  down  in 
my  sleep  when  it  is  far  from  you  will  be  my  wak- 


Shanwalla  173 

ing?  There  is  nothing  will  befriend  me  only 
death — my  life  to  burn  out  in  a  minute  the  same 
as  the  tails  the  children  do  be  kindling  in  the 
barley  gardens!  It  will  be  best  let  it  out  from 
me  with  some  little  sharp  bit  of  iron!  (Goes  to 
door.) 

Brogan:  (Who  has  been  at  door  for  a  moment  or 
two  comes  in.)  Here  let  you  sit  down.  (Pushes 
over  mug  to  him.)  Drink  it  now.  It's  little  but 
you'll  fall  in  your  standing  with  the  weakness. 
(Pushes  him  into  chair.)  Have  courage  man! 
You  are  shaking  like  the  tree  of  the  Crucifixion ! 
(Scarry  drinks.} 

O'Malley:  That's  right.  It  will  bring  the 
senses  back  into  him . 

Brogan:  (Sits  down  and  lights  pipe.)  Tell  me 
now,  Pat  O'Malley,  what  way  is  the  world  shaping? 
Have  you  any  new  tidings  of  the  big  races  of  Inchy 
tomorrow? 

O'Malley:  Sure  there  is  no  talk  of  any  other 
thing.  There  is  quality  gathered  into  all  the  big 
gentlemen's  houses. 

Brogan:  Would  you  say  now  Shanwalla  to  be 
the  favourite  yet  ? 

O'Malley:  Why  wouldn't  he  be  the  favourite? 
He's  a  great  sort.  He  is  far  beyond  any  one  of 
the  blood  horses  will  be  in  it. 


174  Shanwalla 

Brogan:  You  heard  nothing  against  him  I 
suppose? 

0' Motley:  Sure  there  is  nothing  can  be  brought 
against  him.  You  know  that  before. 

Brogan:  A  touch  of  the  strangles  they  were 
telling  me  he  has  got.  It's  a  bad  thing  to  get  quit 
of  or  to  cure. 

Scarry:  That's  a  damned  lie  they  told  you  say- 
ing that.  He  never  had  any  such  a  thing. 

Brogan:  Ah,  it's  hard  to  believe  all  the  lies  that 
is  in  the  world.  I  suppose  you  didn't  see  him  since 
he  went  out  of  your  care  ? 

Scarry:    I  did  not. 

0' 'Motley:  I  got  a  sketch  of  him  myself  that 
night,  the  night  of  the  misfortune  that  came  on 
this  place.  It  was  Darcy  himself  was  leading  him 
away  by  the  river  path.  It  was  Lawrence  Scarry 
had  more  hand  in  him  than  any  trainer  or  tribe 
of  trainers.  He  behaved  very  mean  doing  that. 

Scarry:  He  did  not.  He  behaved  fair  and 
square  to  me. 

Brogan:  That's  very  good.  It  is  the  neigh- 
bours I  heard  talking,  saying  that  he  someway 
mistrusted  you. 

Scarry:  He  behaved  good  and  honest.  He  said 
to  me  to  move  over  to  his  own  yard  so  soon  as  I 


Shanwalla  175 

would  have  done  .  .  .  this  business  here.     It  is 
there  I  should  be  going  at  this  time. 

Brogan:  They  are  saying  he  tried  to  bring 
back  the  trainer  from  the  Curragh  in  your  place, 
and  that  he  would  give  you  no  more  leave  to 
attend  the  horse. 

Scarry:  Little  they  know,  so  full  as  they  are  of 
fancies. 

Brogan:  Well,  I'm  only  telling  you  what  is 
said. 

Scarry:  (Taking  key  from  nail.')  Look  at  that 
key?  Do  you  know  what  is  it? 

Brogan:    What  way  would  I  know? 

Scarry:  It  is  the  key  of  Shanwalla's  stable 
beyond.  Darcy  gave  it  into  my  hand,  and  he  gave 
with  it  full  leave  to  go  in  at  any  minute  of  the  night 
or  day.  Was  that  now  mistrusting  me? 

Brogan:  (Touching  key.)  You  are  not  telling 
me  he  did  that  much? 

Scarry:  He  knows  well  the  love  I  have  for  that 
horse !  I'll  like  well  to  see  the  way  he'll  put  defeat 
on  the  whole  rout  of  them ! 

Brogan:  That's  right!  Go  see  the  race  to- 
morrow. You'll  get  some  life  in  you  with  the 
shouting  of  the  crowds  upon  the  course. 

Scarry:  (Drinking  again.)  Shouting  "Shan- 
walla"  they  will  be!  It  is  I  will  give  out  my  own 


176  Shan  walla 

shout.     I'll  lay  my  bets  with  the  best  of  them. 
I'm  not  put  out  yet! 

Brogan:  That's  it!  ...  There's  no  one  on 
the  course  will  make  bigger  money  than  what  you 
will,  and  you  to  take  courage  in  your  hand. 

Scarry:  Money?  What  would  I  want  getting 
money !  I  would  not  stoop  my  back  for  it,  and  it 
to  be  shining  on  the  grass! 

Brogan:  That  now  is  a  solid  key.  .  .  Let  me 
take  it  in  my  hand  a  minute. 

Scarry:    I  will  not  do  that.    (Puts  key  in  pocket.) 

Brogan:    What  way  could  I  harm  it  ? 

Scarry:  The  man  that  gave  it  to  me  said  not  to 
let  it  out  of  my  own  hand.  I  will  hold  to  that 
command. 

Brogan:  (Sneeringly.)  You  are  very  faithful 
to  Hubert  Darcy. 

Scarry:  He  trusted  me  with  it  and  he  can  trust 
me. 

Brogan:  If  he  has  trust  in  you,  it  is  you  your- 
self maybe  put  too  much  trust  in  him. 

Scarry:  The  thing  he  gave  into  my  care,  I  will 
never  give  it  up  to  any  other  one.  There  is  no 
book  or  no  paper  will  ever  have  me  pictured  doing 
that. 

Brogan:  I  am  saying  you  maybe  think  too 
much  of  Darcy. 


Shanwalla  177 

Scarry:  He  is  my  master  and  my  near  friend. 
He  will  never  be  hurted  or  harmed  by  enemy  or 
illwisher  so  long  as  I'll  be  living  in  the  world. 

Brogan:  A  pity  he  not  to  have  been  as  faith- 
ful to  yourself. 

Scarry:  He  to  say  a  sharp  word  to  me,  it  is 
short  till  he  would  come  back  to  make  it  up  with 
me  in  some  friendly  way. 

Brogan:  Indeed  he  was  very  often  visiting  this 
old  kennel. 

Scarry:  Evening  or  morning  he  was  never 
hardly  without  taking  a  course  around  the  place. 

Brogan:  If  you  are  a  man  at  all,  Lawrence 
Scarry,  you  will  rise  up  and  draw  down  a  revenge 
on  the  man  was  offering  temptation  to  your  wife ! 

Scarry:    That's  a  blasted  lie! 

Brogan:  I  say  he  was  offering  temptation  to 
Bride  Scarry. 

Scarry:  It  is  not  to  my  wife  he  would  speak  a 
word  of  the  kind!  I'd  have  the  life  of  any  man 
thought  that. 

Brogan:    I  am  but  saying  what  I  know. 

Scarry:  She  would  have  turned  him  out  the 
door  if  he  had  but  said  one  word.  She  would  have 
told  myself. 

Brogan:  That  is  the  very  thing  she  was  about 
to  do.  The  time  you  came  up  from  drawing  water 

13 


Shanwalla 


in  the  river  who  did  you  find  before  you  in  this 
place?  Was  it  Darcy?  and  he  and  herself  talking 
together. 

Scarry:    What  harm  if  he  was  in  it? 

Brogan:  You  had  but  just  gone  out  when  he 
came  in  —  all  the  same  as  if  he  had  been  watching 
you.  I  that  was  taking  a  pebble  from  my  shoe 
made  away  through  the  coachhouse  door.  I 
came  back  there  again  in  a  short  while  to  know 
was  he  gone  out.  He  was  there  yet. 

Scarry:    Why  wouldn't  he  be  there? 

Brogan:  What  he  had  said  to  her  I  don't  know, 
but  I  heard  well  what  she  herself  was  saying  —  she 
had  a  very  clear  sweet  voice. 

Scarry:    She  had  that. 

Brogan:  She  was  saying  at  that  time:  "I  have 
my  face  turned  to  a  better  man."  And  after  that 
she  said,  "I  was  certain  you  had  some  mischief  in 
your  heart";  and  after  that  again,  "It  is  Lawrence 
will  be  the  judge."  He  broke  out  angry  then  and 
gave  up  his  whisper  and  called  out,  "If  you  say  one 
word  to  him  it  will  be  the  worst  word  ever  you  said 
in  your  life.  I'll  put  right  fear  on  you,  I'll  master 
you"! 

Scarry:   Is  it  Darcy  that  was  my  friend  said  that  ! 

Brogan:  You  yourself  came  in  then  at  the  door, 
and  I  made  away  by  the  bridge  over  the  river. 


Shan  walla  179 

Scarry:  He  said  that  to 'her!  If  you  are  lying 
I'll  squeeze  the  breath  out  of  you!  (Seizes  him.} 

Brogan:  So  help  me  God  I  heard  the  woman 
that  was  your  wife  giving  out  those  words  in  this 
place.  I'll  swear  it  in  any  court  in  Ireland! 

Scarry:  Let  me  out  of  this!  I'll  go  task  him 
with  it!  I'll  take  his  life ! 

Brogan:  You  will  find  it  hard  to  do  that,  and 
his  people  being  around  him  in  the  big  house. 

Scarry:  My  seven  curses  on  him  and  on  his 
house  and  his  four-footed  beasts  and  his  means  and 
upon  his  soul!  I'll  put  my  heavy  vengeance 
on  him!  I'll  make  an  attack  on  him  at  the  race- 
course in  the  sight  of  all! 

Brogan:  You  will  not.  You  will  draw  down 
on  him  a  surer  punishment  than  that.  To  put 
him  back,  and  to  lessen  his  means,  and  to  bring 
down  his  pride,  till  he  will  quit  the  country  being 
vexed  and  ashamed. 

Scarry:    What  way  will  I  do  that  ? 

Brogan:  You  have  but  the  least  little  thing 
to  do.  Just  to  go  into  the  stable  beyond  on  this 
night,  and  to  put  what  is  in  this  paper  (takes 
out  packet}  into  the  horse's  flour  and  water  or  into 
his  feed  of  oats  the  way  he  will  fail  in  the  race. 
That  is  the  only  best  thing  to  do,  and  you  not 
being  too  tender  with  the  horse. 


1 8o  Shanwalla 

Scarry:  Darcy's  horse  is  it!  My  curse  upon 
him!  It's  well  pleased  I'd  be  seeing  him  sunk  in 
the  river  below,  or  to  struggle  and  smother  in  a 
bog! 

Brogan:    That's  right  now. 

Scarry:    I'll  go  do  it !    I'll  drag  Darcy  down ! 

0 'Motley:  You  cannot  go  out  at  this  time.  It 
isn't  hardly  up  to  ten  o'clock.  They  would  see 
you  coming  in  the  yard.  There  is  brightness  in  the 
young  moon.  You  must  wait  till  farther  out  in  the 
night.  They  will  all  be  in  their  sound  sleep  that 
time.  The  horse  himself  will  make  no  outcry, 
you  being  no  stranger  coming  to  the  stall. 

Scarry:  It  is  long  to  me  till  I'll  set  out,  till  I'll 
go  do  my  revenge. 

Brogan:    We'll  stop  along  with  you. 

0' Motley:  We  cannot.  Here  is  Owen  Conary 
coming  to  the  door. 

Brogan:  Let  you  get  shut  of  him,  Lawrence, 
throwing  yourself  on  the  bed  saying  you  have  need 
of  sleep,  and  that  much  is  no  lie!  We'll  come 
back  here  to  you,  and  he  to  have  gone  his  road. 
(They  go  by  left  door.) 

Conary:  (Groping  at  door.)  Is  there  anyone 
within? 

Scarry:  Is  it  in  here  you  are  coming,  Conary? 
This  is  a  bad  place  for  one  that  is  questing  to  fill 


Shanwalla  181 

his  bag.  It  is  not  a  great  share  of  leavings  is  here 
after  the  great  throng  was  in  it,  and  the  great 
feast  we  had  these  two  nights  back ! 

Canary:  It  is  not  food  I  am  craving,  Lawrence 
Scarry. 

Scarry:  Drink  it  should  be  so,  and  tobacco! 
There's  no  one  comes  into  this  place  without  covet- 
ing to  bring  something  away  out  of  it.  There  were 
some  had  an  eye  on  the  horse  and  another  coveted— 
curse  him — a  nearer  thing  and  a  thing  he  never 
could  reach  to.  And  as  to  what  you  yourself  are 
coveting  (turns  up  bottles)  it  is  gone,  and  no  more 
to  be  got. 

Canary:  That  is  a  sort  of  welcome  should  drive 
me  out  the  door!  I'm  not  one  to  be  bothering  or 
giving  trouble!  It  is  now  and  forever  I  will  turn 
my  back  on  you ! 

Scarry:  (Seizing  and  dragging  him  to  hearth.} 
Stop  there  now  by  the  fire.  (Pushes  him  into  chair.} 
I've  no  mind  to  be  left  my  lone  to  please  any  man 
or  any  two  men,  and  I  going  to  lie  down  in  my 
sleep  .  .  .  (Sits  on  bed.}  What  sort  is  the  wea- 
ther without  ? 

Conary:  Fair  enough  now,  but  there  is  a  mist 
coming  up  from  the  west. 

Scarry:  Dry  your  feet  there  from  the  damp  of 
the  road.  Waken  me  after  a  while,  and  I  to  be  too 


1 82  Shanwalla 

long  sleeping.  I'll  be  wanting  to  go  out  in  the 
darkness,  for  a  night  ramble.  That's  the  time  all 
will  be  quiet  and  no  one  to  meddle  or  put  you  back 
.  .  .  that's  the  time  for  mischief  and  for  the  fox 
to  get  his  prey !  (Lies  down.} 

Canary:  It  might  be  best.  It's  hard  lie  quiet 
through  the  hours  of  the  night,  when  you  are  down 
and  a  care  on  top  of  you.  ...  If  I  didn't  know 
you  to  be  racked  and  wore  out  I  would  put  the 
beggar's  curse  on  you !  B  ut  God  help  you !  There 
never  was  such  trouble  in  anything  ever  a  man  put 
over  him !  A  little  saint  she  xwas  and  a  loughy 
woman  besides.  Surely  it  was  God  called  her, 
and  His  Lady.  I  could  cry  down  my  eyes  thinking 
of  her.  The  priest  getting  no  leave  to  overtake 
her  and  not  a  good-bye  in  the  world  wide.  (Lis- 
tens.} That  is  good !  The  sleep  is  the  best  friend 
to  any  troublesome  heart.  But  as  to  her  that  is 
gone,  to  be  a  day  in  her  company  would  lengthen 
your  life.  A  strange  thing  she  to  be  holding 
the  cup  to  me  but  three  days  ago;  and  in  what 
world  I  wonder  is  she  now?  It  is  quiet  and  easy 
she  should  be  at  this  time  as  it  is  well  she  deserved 
it.  What  call  would  she  have  to  go  walking?  No 
children  to  care  or  to  nourish ;  no  debt  that  would 
be  a  weight  on  her  mind.  .  .  .  (Goes  over  and 
listens  to  Lawrence  then  comes  back}  Let  him  sleep 
on  now  while  he  can  do  it.  God  is  the  best  and 


Shanwalla  183 

maybe  after  a  while  he'll  quieten  things  all  over! 
(He  nods  over  fire.  Bride  comes  in.  She  stands  by 
Lawrence.  Then  stoops  a  little.) 

Bride:  Lawrence!  Lawrence!  Waken!  It  is  I, 
myself,  Bride  your  wife!  (There  is  no  movement 
from  Lawrence.  Canary  still  sits  over  fire.) 

Bride:  Conary !  (He  does  not  answer,  she  comes 
nearer.)  Conary !  It  is  I  myself,  Bride  Scarry ! 

Conary:  (Uneasily.)  Is  there  anyone  anear 
me? 

Bride:  It  is  Bride,  your  friend.  Speak  to  me 
now,  speak  to  me! 

Conary:  (Getting  up  and  shrinking.)  It  is  but  a 
voice  in  my  ear.  Let  me  go  out  of  this ! 

Bride:  Speak  to  me;  question  me?  I  can  do 
nothing  without  you  question  me. 

Conary:  I  am  affrighted,  hearing  the  voice  of 
the  dead. 

Bride:  My  heart  is  living,  Conary.  I  have  not 
passed  the  mering  of  the  world.  It  is  to  serve 
Lawrence  I  am  come  and  to  give  him  a  warning — 
to  save  him  from  bad  handling  and  from  harm,  to 
save  him  from  doing  a  great  wrong.  Question  me, 
question  me ! 

Conary:  There  is  something  before  me — some 
whiteness,  it  might  be  the  flame  upon  the  hearth. 
Lawrence !  Waken ! 


1 84  Shan  walla 

Bride:  He  to  waken  itself  he  cannot  see  me,  he 
cannot  hear  me.  Look  now  I  am  here  before  you. 
Many  a  yesterday  I  took  the  hunger  off  you,  and 
now  you  will  not  do  this  little  thing  for  me ! 

Canary:  What  is  it?  Who  is  it?  Is  it  that  I 
have  my  eyesight  ?  Oh,  the  darkness  is  come  upon 
me  again!  Let  me  go  away  out  of  this!  (He 
shrinks  away  groping  out  of  door.) 

Bride:  Is  it  not  a  hard  case  I  to  be  a  stranger 
now,  and  it  is  short  since  I  was  the  woman  of  the 
house!  (Goes  back  to  side  of  bed.)  Lawrence! 
Lawrence !  have  you  no  word  at  all  for  me !  You 
would  not  be  in  dread  of  me.1  Lift  up  your  lips 
to  me  that  is  your  wife !  .  .  .  My  grief,  he  cannot 
hear  me — he  cannot  feel  my  hand !  Who  is  there 
now  to  help  me  unless  it  might  be  his  friends  on  the 
other  side.  (She  stands  straight  and  lifts  her  hand.) 

I  call  now  to  the  family  of  Heaven 
To  put  ridges  of  mercy  around  him  on  every  side ; 
Any  bad  thing  might  be  coming  from  the  left  hand, 
I  put  the  King  of  the  Graces  between  himself  and 
itself! 

Listen  Martin  and  Patrick  that  do  be  praying  for  us, 
Do  not  let  him  be  in  bad  case  at  the  last ! 
He  is  all  one  with  a  bird  has  a  trap  closing  around  him . 
Stretch  out  now  and  turn  him  to  the  lucky  road ! 
(Sound  of  talking  at  door.      She  goes  to 
corner.    Brogan  and  O'Malley  come  in.) 


Shanwalla  185 

Brogan:    Is  he  in  here  at  all  ? 

0' Motley:    He  is  in  his  sound  sleep  on  the  bed. 

Brogan:  That  is  very  good.  He  will  be  fresh 
and  lively  for  the  work  is  before  him. 

0' Motley:  It  was  a  good  thought  you  had, 
making  up  that  story  about  Darcy. 

Brogan:  We  could  not  have  brought  him  to  our 
way  without  that. 

0' Motley:  A  foolish  man  he  should  be  to  give 
credit  to  it,  and  he  knowing  Darcy  so  well  as  what 
he  does.  But  there  was  confusion  in  his  mind 
with  all  the  trouble  he  put  over  him. 

Brogan:  The  jealousy  to  come  on  a  man,  it  is 
easy  make  him  believe  all. 

0' Motley:  I  was  in  dread  we  might  have  to  do 
the  job  ourselves. 

Brogan:  I  wouldn't  ask  to  bring  him  into  it  if 
we  had  power  to  do  it  without  him. 

O'Malley:  He  having  the  key  of  the  stable 
there'll  be  no  stay  in  doing  it. 

Brogan:  It's  easy  to  get  the  key.  It 's  likely  it 's 
in  the  pocket  where  he  left  it  a  while  ago.  (Takes 
key  from  coat  hanging  by  bed.}  It's  as  good  for  me 
to  keep  it  myself.  (Puts  it  in  pocket.) 

O'Malley:    We  can  go  on  without  him  so. 

Brogan:  The  horse  that  would  rouse  the  whole 
place  with  kicking  and  clattering,  and  he  seeing 


1 86  Shanwalla 

strangers  coming  anear  him.  There  is  no  one  only 
Lawrence  can  handle  him,  and  keep  him  quiet,  he 
being  used  to  his  ways.  (Shakes  him.}  Rouse 
yourself  up  now,  Lawrence  Scarry ! 

Scarry:    What  is  it? 

Brogan:    Let  you  waken ! 

0*  Motley:    It  is  time  to  stir  yourself. 

Scarry:    Is  the  night  gone  by? 

Brogan:    It  is  not.     You  have  it  before  you. 

Scarry:    I  was  in  a  deep  sleep. 

Brogan:  We  are  come  back  sooner  than  we 
thought.  It  is  dark  the  night  is  turned.  There  is 
come  a  clout  over  the  moon. 

Scarry:    I  was  through  the  world  in  my  sleep. 
Brogan:    You  are  wakened  out  of  it  now. 

Scarry:  I  was  as  if  in  some  white  place.  It  is 
likely  it  was  a  dream. 

0' Motley:    Let  you  rise  up  now. 

Scarry:  The  sweetest  sound  of  music  ever  I 
heard.  (He  is  sitting  on  side  of  bed.} 

O'Malley:  Put  on  your  coat  now  and  come 
on  along  with  us. 

Scarry:  (Puts  on  coat.}  I  am  going  out  in  the 
night. 

0' Motley:    Come  on  so. 


Shanwalla  187 

Scarry:  It  is  not  with  you  I  am  going.  I  am 
going  my  lone. 

O'Malley:  So  you  can  go — over  to  the 
big  stables. 

Scarry:    It  is  not  there  I  am  going. 

Brogan:  Where  is  it  so?  Is  it  to  lay  a  com- 
plaint against  us  and  a  warning  ? 

Scarry:  It  is  not.  But  I  will  not  go  in  your 
company. 

Brogan:  Is  it  that  you  are  going  to  renage  and 
you  after  giving  us  your  word? 

O'Malley:  Is  it  that  you  are  falling  back  from 
drawing  down  your  revenge? 

Scarry:  That  plan  of  revenge  is  as  if  gone 
from  my  mind.  I  have  no  desire  to  hurt  or  to 
harm  any  person  at  all.  (Gets  up.} 

Brogan:  Ah,  come  along,  man,  with  us  and  it 
will  come  back  to  you. 

Scarry:  It  is  over  to  Eserkelly  I  am  going.  I 
have  a  mind  to  go  look  at  Brigit's  grave. 

Brogan:  Making  excuses  you  are.  What 
would  bring  you  there  at  this  hour  of  the  night? 

Scarry:     I  am  uneasy  without  going  there. 

Brogan:  Scheming  you  are.  What  can  you 
do  for  her  ?  She  is  safe  enough  in  the  grave. 

Scarry:  The  world  wouldn't  put  it  out  of  my 
head  that  she  came  anear  me  in  my  sleep. 


1 88  Shanwalla 

Brogan:  That  is  but  vanity  and  foolishness. 
There  is  no  one  comes  back  from  the  dead. 

Scarry:  So  nice  she  looked  and  so  calm  and  so 
mournful.  I  am  going  to  you  now,  Bride,  till  I  will 
cry  my  fill  for  you !  God  knows,  she  to  come  back 
I  would  give  her  a  good  welcome,  shadow  and  all 
as  she  might  be ! 

O'Malley:  It  is  that  he  is  a  coward  and  is 
afeard  to  do  what  he  took  in  hand. 

Brogan:  He  has  us  made  fools  of.  He  has  us 
robbed. 

O'Mattey:  It  is  easier  save  yourself  from  a 
rogue  than  from  a  liary  person  would  not  hold 
to  his  word. 

Brogan:  Is  it  that  you  are  a  traitor  or  in  dread 
to  keep  your  purpose? 

Scarry:  (Turning  from  door.)  Is  it  of  the  like 
of  ye  I  would  be  afeard  ? 

O'Mattey:  (Taking  his  arm.}  Come  on  now, 
Lawrence. 

Scarry:  (Shaking  him  off.)  Don't  touch  my 
clothes  or  don't  come  anear  me ! 

Brogan:  Come  on  and  do  what  you  have  to  do 
or  you'll  repent  it. 

O'Mattey:    A  renegade  you  are ! 

Scarry:  Let  you  quit  talking  to  me  before  I'll 
make  you ! 


Shanwalla  189 

Brogan:  No  wonder  he  to  be  so  cross  and 
craven!  It's  likely  what  I  said  was  no  news  to 
him.  It's  likely  he  knew  well  Darcy  was  after  the 
wife.  It's  likely  he  had  it  planned  to  let  her  go 
with  him  before  he  wed  with  her! 

Scarry:  I'll  have  your  life  on  the  head  of  those 
words  out  of  your  lying  mouth!  (Strikes  at  him.) 

Brogan:  (At  door.)  You  may  believe  me  this 
time!  There  is  shortness  of  life  before  you.  I'll 
send  you  to  the  slaughter.  If  ever  you  leaped 
high  on  any  horse  you'll  make  a  higher  leap  again 
with  the  hangman !  (Flings  him  back  and  goes  out 
banging  door.) 


CURTAIN 


ACT  III 

Scene,  A  few  days  later.  Office  at  Darcy's.  A 
desk,  one  or  two  chairs  and  benches.  Two  girls 
coming  in  with  a  Policeman. 

2nd  Girl:    Is  this  now  the  Magistrate's  Court? 

1st  Policeman:  It  is  so.  It  is  here  the  Magis- 
trate will  find  proof  who  is  it  is  guilty  of  destroy- 
ing his  horse  Shanwalla,  the  way  it  would  not  win 
in  the  race. 

ist  Girl:  It  is  Lawrence  Scarry  done  it.  The 
world  that  is  saying  that. 

ist  Policeman:  Keep  your  mouth  quiet.  That 
has  yet  to  be  proved. 

ist  Girl:  My  uncle,  that  is  Pat  O'Malley,  is 
laying  down  it  will  be  proved  by  sure  token. 

ist  Policeman:  Pat  O'Malley!  Take  care  will 
it  be  proved  against  himself. 

ist  Girl:  It  will  not.  Aren't  we  after  coming 
here  purposely  to  prove  his  alibi? 

2nd  Girl:  A  great  wonder  it  was,  Mr.  Darcy  to 
bring  the  horse  out  to  the  race  and  not  to  leave  it 
in  the  stable  the  way  it  was. 

190 


Shanwalla  191 

1st  Policeman:  They  thought  there  to  be  no- 
thing on  it,  and  it  leaving  the  yard. 

1st  Girl:  Sure,  you  saw  the  way  it  was,  that  it 
couldn't  so  much  as  raise  a  gallop,  and  all  the  world 
travelling  to  Inchy  to  see  him,  and  all  the  bets 
that  were  on  him  gone  astray. 

1st  Policeman:  I  wasn't  in  it  myself,  but  sent 
patrolling  the  Loughrea  road. 

2nd  Girl:  A  great  pity  you  to  have  missed  it. 
There  was  no  one  but  had  a  bet  on  that  horse. 

1st  Girl:  I,  myself,  that  put  a  shilling  on  him. 
Word  I  had  from  a  knacky  man  that  got  a  tip  from 
the  stand.  I  think  I  never  will  chance  a  bet  again. 

2nd  Girl:  I  was  late  myself  coming  to  the  en- 
trance gap,  and  everyone  pressing  through  it ;  and 
there  came  a  great  noise  of  talking  among  the 
crowd,  that  I  thought  the  race  to  be  ended.  The 
throng  parted  then  and  the  light-weight  came 
passing  out,  and  he  wearing  Darcy's  colours,  grey 
and  yellow.  Very  mournful  looking  he  was,  and 
his  eyes  going  into  the  ground.  Some  man  that  was 
behind  me  on  the  road  called  out  and  asked  was 
the  honour  of  Mr.  Darcy  doing  well  at  the  leaps. 
And  the  jockey  made  as  if  an  oath  to  himself  and 
gave  no  answer  at  all. 

ist  Girl:  No,  but  wait  till  I  tell  you.  I  that 
saw  more  again.  I  that  went  up  on  some  barrels 
the  time  I  heard  great  cheers  for  Shanwalla  that 


Shanwalla 


was  coming  the  road;  prancing  up  he  was  and  his 
coat  shining.  If  Darcy  had  a  mind  to  sell  him  that 
time,  I  tell  you  he'd  have  his  full  price  got  ! 

jst  Policeman:  It  would  be  lucky  for  Darcy  if 
he  did  sell  him. 

ist  Girl:  The  weighty  part  of  the  crowd  came 
running  to  see  him,  such  a  welter  and  such  a  killing 
you  never  saw  as  was  in  it  ;  climbing  and  knocking 
the  wall  they  were,  till  there  was  nothing  left 
standing  only  gaps. 

ist  Policeman:  So  I  saw  it  myself  after;  that  is 
the  way  it  was. 

ist  Girl:  Shouting  Shanwalla  they  were,  that 
was  for  Galway,  and  all  Munster  against  him! 
But  all  of  a  sudden  it  is  to  go  wild  like  he  did  and 
to  stop  and  to  rear  up,  and  Lawrence  Scarry  that 
was  leading  him  strove  to  soother  him  down. 
But  as  he  came  to  the  field  it  is  to  go  into  a  cold 
sweat  he  did,  and  then  he  went  around  in  a  sort  of 
a  megrim,  the  same  as  a  man  that  would  have 
drink  taken. 

ist  Policeman:  So  he  had  drink  taken  .  .  . 
of  some  sort. 

ist  Girl:  And  is  it  true,  so,  that  it  is  to  poison 
him  they  did? 

2nd  Girl:  If  they  did  itself,  he  is  as  well 
nearly  as  he  was  before.  The  farrier  down  from 
Craughwell  that  came  and  attended  him.  Sure 


Shanwalla  193 

my  grandfather  was  in  it  that  is  better  again  for 
cures,  and  that  gave  me  the  story  down. 

ist  Policeman:  It  is  the  farrier  makes  a  claim 
to  have  brought  him  round. 

2nd  Girl:  Shivering  he  was,  and  they  couldn't 
keep  a  drink  with  him  he  was  that  drouthy,  and 
they  gave  him  castor  oil,  for  whatever  you  put 
before  him,  if  it  was  soot  and  water,  he  must  drink 
it.  But  the  world  wouldn't  make  him  vomit,  and 
it  was  my  grandfather  brought  him  round  at  the 
last,  giving  him  a  pint  of  forge  water,  and  whisky 
and  the  white  of  an  egg.  And  everyone  that  heard 
it  said  there  was  surely  poison  within  in  him. 
(Second  Policeman  comes  in.} 

ist  Policeman:  (Jo  Girls.}  Go  back  there  now 
out  of  the  way.  And  let  ye  mind  yourselves.  It 
is  as  witnesses  ye  were  brought  here,  and  the  less 
talk  you  let  out  of  you  the  better  it  will  be  for  the 
cause  of  justice  and  for  yourselves.  (To  2nd 
Policeman.}  Did  they  find  another  magistrate 
to  sit  along  with  Mr.  Darcy? 

2nd  Policeman:  Out  searching  for  one  we  were 
the  whole  of  the  morning  and  no  one  to  be  found, 
where  they  were  all  gone  to  the  meet  of  the  hounds 
at  Rahasane. 

ist  Policeman:    It  wouldn't  hardly  be  accord- 
ing to  law,  Mr.  Darcy  to  judge  his  own  case. 
13 


194  Shanwalla 

2nd  Policeman:  Sure,  he  has  but  to  commit 
whoever  is  thought  to  have  a  hand  in  it  for  trial 
at  the  Galway  assizes.  A  week  is  no  great  hard- 
ship in  gaol. 

1st  Policeman:  Did  the  Head  Constable  come 
yet? 

2nd  Policeman:  He  did  not.  He  is  in  pursuit 
of  some  trace  or  track  of  the  guilty  person  that  was 
put  into  his  hand. 

1st  Policeman:    Who  would  he  be  now? 

2nd  Policeman:  How  would  I  know,  and  he 
not  willing  to  tell  me?  In  dread  I  might  catch 
him  myself,  I  suppose  he  was.  He  is  one  is  well 
pleased  to  take  full  credit  for  all. 

ist  Policeman:  There  was  some  cause  to  sus- 
pect Pat  O'Malley  of  Canamona  they  were  telling 
me,  and  his  cousin,  James  Brogan,  from  Limerick. 

2nd  Policeman:  I  never  heard  much  against 
Pat  O'Malley  but  that  he  is  poor  and  has  debts 
down  on  him.  Brogan,  though,  has  the  name  of 
being  a  wild  card,  a  rag  on  every  bush,  knocking 
about  here  and  there. 

ist  Policeman:  It  is  likely  it's  after  him  the 
Constable  is  gone  searching. 

2nd  Policeman:  (Looking  from  window.}  He 
should  be  here  by  this.  Mr.  Darcy  that  is  coming 
in  will  be  vexed  not  seeing  him. 


Shanwalla  195 

Darcy:  (Coming  in.}     Is  Lawrence  Scarry  here? 
2nd  Policeman:    I  didn't  see  him,  sir. 

Darcy:  I'll  want  him  to  sift  out  evidence  along 
with  the  Head  Constable  that  might  help  us  to 
find  out  who  was  it  did  this  thing. 

2nd  Policeman:  I  believe  the  Constable  is  of 
opinion  he  all  to  has  his  hand  laid  upon  the  rogue. 

Darcy:  That's  right.  It  is  long  to  me  till  I'll 
have  him  before  me.  I  won't  be  long  sending  him 
to  his  rightful  place,  that  is  gaol. 

1st  Policeman:    He'll  be  best  there,  surely. 

Darcy:  He  must  be  a  terrible  ruffian !  I  never 
heard  of  a  worse  case  in  my  lifetime!  To  come 
breaking  into  my  stables  and  to  try  and  do  away 
with  my  horse ! 

2nd  Policeman:    It  was  a  very  ruffianly  deed. 

Darcy:  To  go  hurt  a  man  you  would  want  to 
put  out  of  the  way  it  would  be  bad  enough.  But  I 
think  it  seventeen  times  worse  to  make  an  attack 
on  an  innocent  creature  that  gave  no  provocation 
to  anyone.  You'd  have  been  sorry  to  see  the  way 
he  was ! 

1st  Policeman:  I  was  well  pleased  to  hear  he 
is  at  this  time  on  the  mending  hand. 

Darcy:  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it !  It's  no 
thanks  to  the  villain  if  he  did  escape.  There  was 


196  Shanwalla 

enough  of  poison  left  in  the  pail  he  drank  from  to 
do  away  with  all  the  horses  on  the  green  of 
Ballinasloe ! 

2nd  Policeman:  So  the  Constable  is  after  telling 
me. 

Darcy:  The  black-hearted  ruffian!  It  is 
crooked  law  that  wouldn't  mix  that  same  poison 
into  the  diet  of  the  man  used  it  on  Shanwalla! 
He'll  get  hanging,  anyway.  There's  some  justice 
in  that. 

ist  Policeman:  The  law  is  very  severe  in  those 
cases. 

Darcy:  It  couldn't  be  too 'severe!  I  wouldn't 
grudge  it  to  my  own  brother,  and  I  to  have  one, 
and  he  to  have  done  such  a  deed ! 

ist  Policeman:  Two  men,  some  are  saying,  that 
were  in  it. 

Darcy:  It  is  glad  I  am  to  hear  that!  To  give 
up  two  of  them  to  the  hangman  will  be  some 
satisfaction,  and  will  show  some  respect  for 
Shanwalla ! 

ist  Policeman:  Here  is  the  Head  Constable 
coming,  and  a  couple  more  along  with  him.  They 
are  bringing  with  them  .  .  . 

Darcy:  The  men  they  suspect,  I  suppose.  Go 
tell  them  to  hurry.  And  try  can  you  find  Lawrence 
Scarry. 


Shanwalla  197 

ist  Policeman:  I'll  not  have  far  to  go  look  for 
him.  He  is  close  at  hand. 

Constable:  (Coming  in.}  I  couldn't  get  here 
any  sooner,  sir.  I  have  been  searching  the  whole 
matter  out. 

Darcy:  That's  right.  Have  you  got  hold  of 
the  man  that  did  it? 

Constable:    In  my  opinion  I  have. 

Darcy:  I  was  in  dread  you  might  not  be  able 
to  put  your  hand  on  him. 

Constable:  No  fear  of  that.  There  is  one  thing 
sure  in  this  world — when  there's  a  crime  there's  a 
criminal. 

Darcy:    It's  not  always  so  easy  to  find  him. 

Constable:  In  some  cases  it  is  not.  But  it  was 
easy  enough  this  time.  I've  got  him. 

Darcy:    I  thought  there  were  two  suspected. 

Constable:  O'Malley  and  Brogan  you  are  think- 
ing of.  But  they  can  clear  themselves.  They 
have  their  alibi  as  good  as  proved. 

Darcy:    Who  are  you  going  to  charge  so? 

Constable:    It  is  Lawrence  Scarry. 

Darcy:    Scarry !  .    .    .     My  Lawrence  Scarry ! 

Constable:    The  same  one. 

Darcy:  Rubbish !  You  might  as  well  say  that 
I  myself  did  it ! 


198  Shanwalla 

Constable:    The  case  is  strong  against  him. 
Darcy:    Some  one  has  made  up  false  witness. 

Constable:  There  was  no  need  for  that.  There 
is  proof. 

Darcy:  There  couldn't  be  proof  of  what  didn't 
happen.  Larry  loved  that  horse ! 

Constable:    That  makes  the  crime  the  worse. 

Darcy:  Where  is  he?  He  will  be  able  to  dis- 
prove it. 

Constable:  We  have  him  now  at  hand.  I  am 
making  a  search  in  the  room  at  Cahirbohil  where 
he  was  housed.  I  found  this  piece  of  blue  paper 
stuck  under  a  candle.  It  was  in  a  tattered  condi- 
tion and  smelling  of  stale  porter.  It  fits  in  shape 
and  similitude  with  the  twisted  paper  we  found  on 
the  stable  floor  and  that  had  some  remains  of  the 
poison  in  it  yet.  There  are  some  grains  of  the 
same  sort  here.  This  is  the  document  proves  the 
case  through  and  through. 

Darcy:  If  I  thought  it  possible — but  I  don't — 
that  he  had  gone  out  of  his  wits  and  done  such  a 
thing  I  would  sooner  withdraw  the  case  than  have 
it  proved  against  him ! 

Constable:  It  would  be  impossible  to  do  that. 
I  have  my  report  made  to  the  inspector.  It  will 
be  in  the  hands  of  the  Crown. 


Shanwalla  199 

Darcy:  I  tell  you  he  couldn't  have  done  it! 
It  was  in  the  night  time  it  was  done,  after  ten 
o'clock,  between  that  and  early  morning. 

Constable:  It  was  within  that  time  sure  enough. 
You  took  notice  yourself,  sir,  some  of  the  flour  was 
spilled  from  the  box  where  it  was. 

Darcy:  If  I  did  I  thought  it  might  be  a  rat  or  a 
mouse  or  a  thing  of  the  kind.  I  knew  no  one 
could  have  come  in.  I  had  locked  the  door  myself. 
I  had  the  key  all  the  time. 

Constable:  There  was  no  other  one,  I  suppose, 
has  a  key  ? 

Darcy:    No  one — except  Lawrence  Scarry. 

Constable:  So  I  was  thinking.  (Writes  note.) 
I  wasn't  rightly  sure  till  now. 

Darcy:  It  makes  no  difference.  He  wasn't 
near  the  stable.  I  was  expecting  him.  He  never 
came  till  morning.  He  told  me  he  was  tired  out 
after  the  burying — and  low-hearted — no  wonder 
.  .  .  and  the  day  over,  he  had  laid  down  to  sleep 
on  his  bed. 

Constable:  We'll  soon  know  can  he  give  proof 
of  that.  I'm  not  one  to  rush  at  a  thing  without 
sure  evidence. 

Darcy:  Why  don't  you  go  look  for  proofs 
against  these  other  men?  Had  you  no  informa- 


200  Shanwalla 

tion  against  them?     We  might  be  able  to  prove  it. 
Bring  them  in. 

Constable:  All  I  heard  was,  they  had  bets  put 
on  against  your  own  horse  in  the  race.  There  was 
ill-f  eeling  against  them  among  those  that  lost  their 
money.  I  was  advised  to  make  enquiry  about 
them.  I  did  that.  I  got  no  information  was 
enough  to  charge  them  on. 

Darcy:  Bring  them  here,  I  might  make  out 
something.  (They  are  brought  in.  0' Motley  is 
brought  forward.)  Now  look  here,  my  man,  if  you 
were  brought  in  here,  it  is  that  there  is  something 
against  you.  What  is  it  ?  Do.you  know  anything 
of  what  happened  my  horse?  Did  you  ever  see 
him  or  handle  him?  Say  yes  or  no. 

O'Malley:  I  will.  Previous  to  the  day  of  the 
races  I  never  laid  an  eye  on  him. 

Constable:  He  says  he  can  give  proof  he  was  not 
out  of  his  own  house  that  night. 

O'Malley:  So  I  can,  too.  There  are  two  little 
girls  of  the  neighbours  can  bear  testimony  to  that. 

Darcy:  Who  are  they?  Will  they  be  honest 
witnesses  ? 

ist  Policeman:  Very  decent  little  girls,  sir,  and 
well-spoken.  Nieces  of  Pat  O'Malley,  I  believe 
they  are. 

Darcy:    What  have  they  to  say? 


Shanwalla  201 

ist  Girl:    It  was  Thursday  night.   .    .    . 
Darcy:    What  Thursday  night  ? 

ist  Girl:  St.  Brigit's  Eve  for  the  world.  We 
met  Pat  O'Malley  coming  home,  where  he  had 
been  to  the  burying  at  Eserkelly ;  and  he  having  a 
pain  in  the  jaw  and  it  going  athrough  his  head. 

2nd  Girl:    That  is  so.     Cold,  I  suppose  he  got. 

ist  Girl:  We  turned  into  the  house  with  him, 
and  we  sat  there  for  a  while. 

Darcy:    For  how  long? 

ist  Girl:  A  middling  while,  and  he  telling  us 
newses  of  the  burying. 

2nd  Girl:  Giving  us  an  account  of  all  the 
people  that  were  in  it. 

Darcy:  That's  enough.  All  I  want  to  know  is 
what  time  it  was. 

2nd  Girl:  I  couldn't  know  .  .  .  only  the 
middling  right  time. 

ist  Girl:  It  was  just  on  the  stroke  of  ten  o'clock 
we  went  in 

2nd  Girl.  I  was  forgetting  that.  Just  up  to 
ten  o'clock. 

ist  Girl:  The  wife  put  a  hot  plaster  to  the  jaw 
and  he  went  in  to  his  bed,  and  we  went  away  then, 
and  the  door  was  closed  after  us.  Closed  and 
locked ;  and  he  never  left  the  house  till  morning. 


202  Shanwalla 

2nd  Girl:  Till  it  was  time  to  make  a  start  for 
Inchy  races.  We  were  together  going  the  road. 

Constable:  You  see,  sir,  it  is  hardly  worth 
while  going  on  with  this  case. 

Darcy:  Go  on  then  with  the  other,  Brogan. 
Can  he  prove  where  he  was  that  night  ? 

Constable:  That  is  a  thing  was  laid  down 
against  James  Brogan.  He  was  seen  coming  out 
through  a  gap  in  the  demesne  wall  at  Cahirbohil 
about  twelve  o'clock  Thursday  night. 

Darcy:  That  is  better.  He  is  likely  the  man 
we  want.  Have  you  any  witnesses? 

Brogan:  You  need  bring  no  witness  to  that.  I 
did  come  out  that  side.  I  thought  it  no  harm 
where  it  was  a  mile  of  a  short-cut.  I  had  gone  in 
to  see  a  friend. 

Darcy:    At  that  time  of  night? 

Brogan:  No,  but  earlier.  I  went  to  visit  him. 
I  was  coming  back  from  the  fair  of  Loughrea. 
Darkness  overtook  me  on  the  road ;  I  went  to  ask 
a  lodging  of  him. 

Darcy:  What  friend  had  you  inside  my 
demesne  ? 

Brogan:  I  should  sooner  say  kinsman  by  mar- 
riage. His  wife's  mother  and  my  mother  were 
mixed,  blood  thick,  they  were,  two  cousins.  Any- 


Shanwalla  203 

one  that  has  learning  can  read  it  on  the  headstone 
in  Eserkelly.     He  was  Lawrence  Scarry. 

Darcy:    What  time  was  that? 

Brogan:  The  time  I  went  there  it  was  close  on 
ten  o'clock.  I  stopped  a  good  while,  maybe  two 
hours. 

Darcy:  Then  Scarry  was  in  his  own  room 
where  you  were  with  him  all  that  time!  I  knew 
he  never  left  it.  I  knew  he  was  speaking  the 
truth ! 

Brogan:  I  took  my  rest  there  for  a  while.  But 
I  did  not  say  I  was  with  him.  I  won't  tell  you 
one  word  of  a  lie.  There  was  no  one  in  the  place 
but  myself. 

Darcy:    Where  was  he  then? 

Brogan:  The  Lord  be  praised,  I  do  not  know, 
and  that  I  cannot  tell. 

Darcy:  He  might  have  gone  to  some  neigh- 
bour's house. 

Brogan:  To  be  sure  he  might.  That's  what  I 
was  thinking  myself.  It  will  be  easy  for  him  call 
that  neighbour  to  witness. 

1st  Policeman:  Owen  Conary,  the  dark  man 
that  goes  questing  on  the  roads  was  talking  abroad 
in  the  yard.  I  heard  him  give  out  he  himself  was 
the  latest  person  was  with  Lawrence  Scarry  on 
that  night. 


204  Shanwalla 

Darcy:  Call  him  in  then.  He  might  settle  the 
matter. 

Constable:  He  will,  I'm  thinking.  One  way  or 
another.  (Canary  comes  in.} 

Darcy:  What  time  were  you  with  Scarry  at 
Cahirbohil  Thursday  night? 

Constable:    If  ever  you  were  there  at  all. 

Canary:  Why  wouldn't  I  be  there?  I  was  in 
it  surely.  The  time  I  went  in  it  was  near  to  ten 
o'clock. 

Constable:    What  way  do  you  know  that? 

Conary:  I  know  it  by  the  number  of  the  steps 
I  made,  and  I  coming  the  road  from  Kilchriest. 

Constable:    And  Scarry  was  in  it  ? 

Conary:    He  was  to  be  sure. 

Darcy:    How  long  did  you  stop  with  him? 

Conary:  I  don't  know  was  it  an  hour,  half  an 
hour?  I  couldn't  be  rightly  sure. 

Constable:    Try  and  call  up  your  memory  now. 

Conary:  I  wouldn't  be  sure.  My  mind  was 
on  other  things  besides  time. 

Darcy:  You  maybe  stopped  with  him  up  to  ten 
o'clock. 

Conary:     I  did  and  later,  I  can  be  certain  of  that. 

Darcy:  This  man  Brogan  says  he  was  there  at 
that  time. 


Shanwalla  205 

Canary:  He  did  not  come  in  when  I  was  in  it. 
Lawrence  Scarry  was  there  in  his  lone.  I  talked 
with  him  a  short  while,  till  being  tired  and  down- 
hearted he  stretched  himself  in  sleep  on  the  bed 
through  the  night. 

Darcy:  That's  what  he  told  me.  It  is  certain 
he  slept  in  his  bed  last  night.  This  Brogan  must 
be  making  a  mistake  or  making  up  a  story.  He 
says  he  came  in.  You  say  no  one  at  all  came  in. 

Canary:    No  one — unless.  .    .    . 

Constable:    Unless  who?    Tell  it  out. 

Canary:    I  thought  I  saw  .    .    . 

Constable:  He  is  getting  away  from  the  truth. 
You  know  that  you  cannot  see,  and  you  having  the 
eyesight  lost,  and  being  as  you  are  stone  dark. 

Canary:  I  never  did  before  in  my  natural  life. 
But  I  give  you  the  bail  of  my  mouth  I  saw  that 
time,  or  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  saw. 

Darcy:    Go  on.     What  did  you  see? 
Canary:    I  saw  Bride  Scarry  walking. 

Constable:  This  is  superstition  and  a  mockery. 
We  all  know  her  to  be  dead. 

Canary:    I  tell  you  she  came  in  the  spirit. 
Darcy:    I'm  afraid  his  mind  is  rambling. 

Canary:  Why  would  she  not  come  and  the  spirit 
not  long  gone  out  of  her,  where  it  is  known  God  will 


2o6  Shanwalla 

blow  His  breath  into  those  that  are  dead  a  hundred 
or  two  hundred  years? 

Darcy:    Did  you  speak  to  her? 

Canary:  I  did  not;  and  it  is  a  great  pity  that  it 
failed  me  to  do  it.  But  it  was  all  strange  to  me. 
It  is  often  I  coveted  to  see  the  flame  of  the  fire  on 
the  hearth,  and  there  it  was  before  me,  and  the 
walls  of  the  house  on  every  side.  And  as  to  her,  I 
saw  her  as  I  never  saw  anyone  in  this  life.  But 
there  being  no  one  waking  along  with  me,  the 
fright  went  into  my  heart,  and  it  failed  me  to 
question  her,  and  I  went  out  the  door  and  made  no 
stop  or  delay. 

Constable:  You  are  certain  it  was  Bride  Scarry? 
What  sort  was  she? 

Canary:  She  seemed  to  me  to  be  coming  from 
the  south,  and  to  have  on  her  the  lovely  appearance 
of  the  people  of  heaven. 

Darcy:  He  is  given  over  to  dreams  and  visions. 
We  are  getting  nothing  from  him  at  all. 

Constable:  He  was  trying  to  befriend  Scarry 
but  there  is  nothing  in  what  he  says  that  can  serve 
him. 

Darcy:  Stop  a  minute.  Scarry  did  not  leave 
the  house?  He  was  in  bed  asleep  when  you  went 
out? 


Shanwalla  207 

Canary:  He  laid  himself  on  the  bed.  But  he 
said  he  would  not  be  long  in  it.  He  bade  me  waken 
him.  He  said  he  would  be  going  out  later  in  the 
night. 

Constable:  So  he  did  go  out  later,  and  did  the 
crime.  I  was  full  sure  of  that. 

Darcy:  It  is  hard  for  me  to  give  up  trust  in 
him.  He  to  have  turned  against  me,  I  will  never 
have  faith  in  any  other  man  in  the  living  world. 

Constable:  He  will  give  you  his  own  account 
now  of  himself. 

Scarry:  (Coming  in  between  two  policemen.')  Will 
you  tell  me  what  is  going  on,  Mr.  Hubert,  or  if  it  is 
by  your  orders  it  is  going  on  ?  These  peelers  drag- 
ging me  here  and  there!  First  they  would  not 
give  me  leave  to  come  to  you,  and  now  they  are 
shoving  me  in,  the  same  as  a  thief  on  the  road! 
(To  Policeman.}  Leave  go  your  hold ! 

Constable:  Keep  a  quiet  mouth  now  and 
behave  yourself ! 

Scarry:  What  call  have  you  to  be  putting 
orders  on  me?  It  is  Mr.  Darcy  is  my  master.  I 
take  orders  from  no  other  one. 

Constable:  It  is  likely  you'll  give  heed  to  my 
orders  from  this  out ! 

Scarry:  Let  you  keep  that  thought  for  robbers 
and  law-breakers!  I'm  not  one  of  that  class!  I 


208  Shanwalla 

never  gave  a  summons  or  got  a  summons  or  gave 
my  oath  in  a  court ! 

Constable:  It  is  not  with  a  court  but  with  a 
gaol  you  will  be  making  acquaintance  this  night ! 

Scarry:  Divil  a  fear  of  me!  Whatever  you 
have  against  me  or  make  out  against  me,  it  is  Mr. 
Darcy  is  well  able  to  bring  a  man  from  the  gallows ! 

Darcy:  You  need  expect  no  help  from  me, 
Scarry,  if  the  grave  was  there  open  before  you ! 

Scarry:  What  in  the  world  wide !  What  at  all 
is  it  you  have  against  me,  Mr.  Hubert? 

Darcy:  You  will  know  that  at  the  Assizes  when 
you  will  be  brought  before  the  judge. 

Scarry:  Tell  me  out  what  it  is,  and  I'll  show 
you  I  am  clear  from  blame ! 

Darcy:  You'll  show  me!  I  would  not  believe 
one  word  coming  out  of  your  mouth ! 

Constable:  There's  no  use  talking.  We  know 
what  way  you  passed  the  night  before  the  race. 

Scarry:  Is  that  it  now?  Is  that  what  has  put 
you  out,  sir?  You  are  vexed  I  did  not  come  to 
mind  the  horse.  It  is  very  sharp  blame  you  are 
putting  on  me  for  that ! 

Darcy:  You  need  not  try  to  put  a  face  upon  it ! 
You  cannot  come  around  me  now  that  I  have 
knowledge  of  what  you  are ! 


Shanwalla  209 

Scarry:  I  had  a  right  to  have  come,  and  you 
uneasy  as  you  were. 

Darcy:    That's  not  it,  I  tell  you! 

Scarry:  I  told  you  I  thought  to  come  .  .  . 
and  that  I  was  racked  and  tormented  .  .  .  and 
maybe  I  had  a  drop  taken  .  .  .  and  sleep  came 
upon  me. 

Darcy:  I  wish  to  God  you  had  stopped  in  your 
sleep ! 

Scarry:  I  give  you  my  oath,  I'll  never  quit  your 
yard  again  but  to  be  minding  your  business  night 
and  day. 

Darcy:  You'll  never  be  helper  or  head  lad 
again  in  any  stable  I  may  own. 

Scarry:  That  is  hard  judgment  when  all  I  did 
was  to  drowse  awhile. 

Darcy:  It  is  not  your  drowsing  and  sleeping 
goes  against  you !  It  is  the  deed  you  went  out  for 
after  your  rising  up ! 

Scarry:    What  way  did  you  know  I  went  out? 
Constable:    There  now,   he  has  allowed  it. 
Scarry:    I  never  denied  it. 
Constable:    What  time  now  did  you  go  out  ? 

Scarry:    It  seemed  to  me  like  the  dead  hour  of 
darkness,  but  it  might  not  be  so  far  out  in  the  night. 
14 


210  Shanwalla 

Constable:    What  brought  you  out  at  all  ? 
Scarry:    I  was  troublesome  in  the  mind. 

Constable:  You  came  then  to  Mr.  Darcy's 
stables. 

Scarry:  No,  it  was  not  this  side  I  came,  but 
out  across  the  meadows  to  the  north. 

Darcy:  Speak  out.  Don't  drag  this  thing  on 
for  ever. 

Scarry:  It  was  to  the  old  church  of  Eser- 
kelly  I  went,  to  the  side  of  Bride  my  wife's 
grave. 

Constable:  You  can  maybe  bring  witness  to 
that? 

Scarry:  Who  would  I  bring?  There  was  no 
one  in  it,  unless  God,  and  the  dead  underneath. 

Constable:    What  did  you  go  doing  there? 

Scarry:  Asking  her  forgiveness  I  was  if  ever  I 
was  anyway  unkind,  and  saying  prayers  for  the 
repose  of  her  soul. 

Constable:  (To  Darcy.)  This  seems  to  be  a 
humbugging  story,  sir,  made  up  to  get  at  your  soft 
side,  the  way  you  will  get  him  off. 

O'Malley:  Ah,  what  getting  off!  He  said  one 
time  he  was  asleep  and  he  says  now  he  was  ram- 
bling the  fields. 


Shanwalla  211 

Brogan:  Let  him  tell  that  story  to  the  birds  of 
the  air,  for  there  is  no  one  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
will  believe  it. 

Scarry:  (Seeing  them  for  the  first  time.}  Is  it 
you  yourself,  you  red  rogue,  is  at  the  bottom  of 
this  mischief?  I  should  have  known  that  where 
there  was  bad  work  you  would  be  in  it,  yourself 
and  your  comrade  schemer!  (To  Darcy.)  They 
are  two  that  would  swear  away  a  man's  life  for  a 
farthing  candle!  There  is  no  nature  in  them! 
They  are  two  would  think  no  more  of  giving  false 
witness  than  of  giving  a  blow  from  a  pipe.  Tell 
that  story  to  the  birds  of  the  air  is  it !  I  will  and 
to  the  magistrate  that  is  my  master ! 

Brogan:  He  gave  little  belief  to  all  you  told 
him  up  to  this. 

Scarry:  I  have  more  to  tell  and  maybe  he  will 
believe  it ! 

Brogan:  You  have  nothing  to  tell  but  what  will 
bring  your  own  head  into  the  loop ! 

Scarry:  Maybe  it's  your  own  head  it  will  bring 
into  it ! 

Brogan:  Do  your  best  so,  and  see  will  your  lies 
serve  you. 

Scarry:  What  brought  you  into  the  house  that 
night?  Why  did  you  waken  me?  What  did  you 


212  Shanwalla 

ask  of  me?    Was  it  to  come  along  with  you  to 
Darcy's  stable? 

Brogan:    Stop  your  slandering  mouth ! 
Darcy:    Maybe  there  is  something  in  it. 

Brogan:  I  say  this  man  has  made  up  this  false 
witness  and  this  story  because  we  have  knowledge 
of  what  would  hang  him  twice  over,  and  we  being 
willing  to  tell  it  out ! 

Scarry:  You  have  nothing  to  tell  against  me, 
if  it  is  not  that  for  one  half  hour,  God  forgive  me ! 
f  consented  to  your  wicked  plan. 

Brogan:  What  I  have  to  say  I  would  sooner 
not  say,  because  it  concerns  her  that  was  near  in 
blood  to  me,  if  she  was  mixed  in  marriage  with 
yourself. 

Scarry:  Keep  your  tongue  off  her,  you  villain ! 
Have  some  shame  in  you ! 

Brogan:  (To  Darcy.)     Have  I  leave  to  speak? 
Darcy:    Go  on. 

Scarry:  No!  It  would  not  be  for  honour  her 
name  to  be  spoken  out  of  your  false  mouth,  you  that 
are  a  disgrace  to  the  world!  I  know  what  you 
have  in  your  wicked  mind,  and  what  when  I  was 
mad  and  crazed  with  trouble  you  made  me  give 
credit  to  for  one  minute  only!  I  declare  to 


Shan  walla  213 

heaven  that  if  you  say  it  in  this  place  it  will  be  the 
last  lie  in  your  throat! 

Darcy:  (To  Brogan.)     Speak  out. 

Brogan:  It  is  loth  I  am  to  do  that,  and  I 
would  not,  without  that  I  am  forced  by  your 
honour's  commands  and  this  man's  treachery.  I 
know  and  I  tell  you  out,  it  was  he  himself  that 
made  away  with  his  wife ! 

Scarry:  My  God  Almighty!  (Stumbles  and 
holds  a  chair.} 

Brogan:  Look,  sir,  at  the  way  she  died !  Gone 
in  the  snap  of  a  finger.  Well  as  she  was  that  you 
would  take  a  lease  of  her  life,  as  supple  walking  as 
a  young  girl.  What  was  it  happened  her?  Is 
it  that  the  ladder  was  settled  in  a  way  it  would 
go  from  under  her,  and  to  slip  on  a  slippy  flag,  the 
way  she  would  be  quiet  and  dumb  and  could  not 
hold  to  her  word  and  tell  out  to  her  master  that 
it  was  Lawrence  Scarry  himself  had  engaged  for 
money  to  put  injury  on  the  thing  was  in  his 
charge ! 

Scarry:    Let  me  out  till  I'll  choke  him! 

Brogan:  Search  your  mind,  sir,  did  she  say 
she  had  something  to  lay  before  you!  Was  it  he 
sent  her  out  of  the  door?  Was  it  he  himself 
brought  her  in  dead?  Put  away  she  was,  before 
she  could  give  out  that  word. 


214  Shanwalla 

Darcy:  (To  Scarry.)  You  understand  what  he 
is  saying.  What  answer  have  you  ? 

Scarry:  The  twists  and  tricks  of  a  serpent  he 
has!  Didn't  I  speak  before  and  what  did  it  serve 
me.  (Bride  comes  in  and  stays  near  door) . 

Darcy:  (Getting  up.}  The  case  looks  bad  and 
black.  It  has  gone  beyond  me.  (He  looks  at  Con- 
stable's notes;  the  others  whisper  together.) 

Bride:  (Coming  to  Conary.)  Can  you  hear  me 
what  I  say,  Owen  Conary? 

Conary:  I  do  hear  you  and  know  your  voice, 
indeed. 

2nd  Policeman:  (Touching  his  shoulder.)  No 
speaking  now. 

Bride:  But  there  is  great  need  for  us  to  talk 
together.  We  must  have  leave  to  do  that.  (Turns 
and  stands  a  moment  near  door.) 

A  Boy:  (Coming  to  door.)  The  horses  are  get- 
ting uneasy  in  the  stable,  let  Lawrence  Scarry  come 
and  quiet  them  down.  (Larry  starts  up.) 

Darcy:  No,  not  you.  Never  again!  (Scarry 
sits  down  with  head  in  hands.  Darcy  goes  out, 
police,  Brogan,  and  O'Malley  follow  him.  Girls 
go  to  window  and  whisper,  looking  out.  Bride  comes 
to  Conary.) 

Bride :  Here  I  am  now  that  you  may  question  me. 


Shan  walla  215 

Canary:  I  will  do  that,  and  I  give  great  praise 
to  God  that  sent  you  back  to  me.  For  I  am  in 
no  dread  of  you  this  time. 

Bride:  You  need  be  in  no  dread  of  me,  indeed ; 
and  it  is  to  save  my  man  I  am  come,  for  he  is  at  the 
rib  end  of  the  web,  and  no  woof  to  be  got,  and  not 
one  to  save  him  without  your  help  and  my  own. 

Canary:  Answer  me  and  tell  me  now  what  is  to 
be  done  for  him,  and  what  way  can  he  stand  up 
to  the  judge,  and  he  it  may  be  going  to  his  hanging 
tomorrow? 

Bride:  I  am  come  here  to  stand  between  him- 
self and  his  ill-wishers,  and  the  man  that  put  the 
curse  of  misfortune  upon  him. 

Canary:  Do  that,  for  he  is  the  worst  God  ever 
created,  and  it  is  bad  is  his  behaviour  and  you 
could  not  beat  upon  his  cunning.  And  it  is  a  great 
wonder  the  Lord  to  allow  all  the  villainy  is  in  the 
world.  And  that  they  may  meet  with  all  they 
deserve  at  this  time,  and  in  the  cold  hell  that  is 
before  them. 

Bride:  Let  you  not  call  out  a  judgment  against 
them,  but  let  you  leave  them  to  the  Almighty;  and 
I  myself  never  will  put  my  curse  on  them ;  but  that 
He  Himself  may  change  everyone  for  the  best ! 

Canary:  Stretch  out  now  and  give  aid  to  the 
boy  that  had  the  sea  of  the  world's  troubles  over 


216  Shanwalla 

him,  since  you  yourself  went  from  him  to  the  other 
side,  and  that  was  a  boy  did  not  deserve  it  from 
God  or  man. 

Bride:  I  will  do  that.  For  he  was  fair  and 
honest  until  the  man  that  is  his  red  enemy  put  a 
net  around  him  with  lying  words,  and  he  broke 
away  from  it  after.  And  he  was  a  kind  man  to  me, 
for  a  headstrong  man,  while  I  was  with  him,  and 
I  liked  him  well.  Do  now  my  bidding  and  I  will 
leave  you  my  blessing  by  day  and  by  night,  in  the 
light  and  in  the  darkness,  for  from  this  out  I  will 
be  free  from  the  world's  trouble  and  at  peace. 

Canary:  I  will  do  your  bidding ,  indeed .  And  it 
is  not  lonesome  I  will  be  from  this  out,  but  I  to  be 
going  the  long  road  it  will  be  as  if  I  did  not  belong 
to  the  world  at  all ;  for  it  seemed  to  me  the  time  I 
looked  at  you,  the  heavens  to  have  opened  then  and 
there!  (They  go  up  to  corner.  She  is  seen  to  be 
speaking  to  him.  Presently  they  both  go  out.} 

ist  Girl:  (Leaving  window  and  coming  down 
stage.}  They're  coming  back  now  from  the  stables. 

2nd  Girl:  (Looking  at  Scarry  who  still  sits  with 
head  sunk  on  arms.}  Would  you  ever  think  now 
Lawrence  Scarry  to  be  such  a  terrible  wicked  man, 
to  kill  the  poor  woman  stone-dead ! 

ist  Girl:  Darcy  to  turn  against  him — what  will 
it  be  when  he  will  come  before  the  Judge  of  Assize 
and  all  the  counsellors  of  the  Crown? 


Shanwalla  217 

2nd  Girl:  I  thought  it  was  but  for  a  bit  of 
funning  Pat  O'Malley  bade  us  make  up  the  story 
about  him  being  in  the  house  that  night.  Sure, 
what  way  would  I  know  if  he  was  in  it  at  all  ?  And 
now  they'll  be  putting  it  in  the  newspapers  and  all 
around  the  world. 

ist  Girl:    Whether  or  no,  you  cannot  go  back 
from  it  now.    Well,  I  declare,  I'd  near  pity  the  poor 
man  if  it  was  not  for  the  bad  deed  he  has  done. 
(Darcy,  Constable  and  the  rest  come  in.} 

Constable:  (To  Scarry.}  Come  over  here  now 
and  hear  what  Mr.  Darcy  has  to  say. 

Darcy:  There  is  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to 
commit  you  to  gaol. 

Scarry:  Is  it  that  you  give  belief  to  what  was 
said? 

Darcy:  God  knows  I  would  give  the  half  of 
my  estate  to  have  the  same  thought  of  you  I  had 
yesterday.  You  never  would  hear  a  sharp  word 
from  me  again.  But  what  stand  can  you  make 
against  the  Judge,  where  I  must  cast  you  off,  that 
was  your  near  friend? 

Scarry:  My  mind  is  as  if  gone  blind.  I  can 
keep  no  thought  in  my  head.  This  is  surely  the 
Grossest  day  that  ever  went  over  me.  I  can  make 
no  stand  against  such  treachery. 


218  Shanwalla 

Canary:  (Coming  forward.}  Will  I  get  leave  to 
say  one  word  .  .  .  ?  A  message  I  am  after  being 
given  .  .  . 

Darcy:    Have  you  anything  new  to  tell? 

Canary:  A  message  I  am  after  being  given  for 
Patrick  O'Malley. 

Darcy:    Has  it  anything  to  do  with  this  case? 

Canary:  Your  honour  will  know  that.  I  am 
bidden  to  tell  you,  Pat  O'Malley,  to  give  up  now 
the  thing  that  is  in  your  hand,  that  is  the  sign 
and  the  token  of  your  treachery,  and  of  the  deed 
you  have  joined  in  and  that  you  have  done. 

O'Malley:  (Taking  his  hand  from  his  breast  where 
he  had  thrust  it.)  There  is  nothing  in  it. 

Canary:  Let  those  that  have  eyesight  say  if 
there  is !  (Constable  goes  over  to  O'Malley.) 

O'Malley:  (Flinging  a  letter  at  Brogan.)  It  is 
you  betrayed  me !  It  is  you  gave  it  to  me !  There 
is  no  one  had  knowledge  of  it  only  yourself.  (Con- 
stable takes  up  and  gives  paper  to  Darcy.) 

Darcy:  (Reading.')  It  is  a  promise  to  pay  £50 
to  him  so  soon  as  Inchy  races  will  be  over,  if  so  be 
the  horse  Shanwalla  will  not  have  been  able  to 
make  a  start. 

O'Malley:  It  was  poverty  brought  me  to  it, 
and  the  children  rising  around  me. 


Shanwalla  219 

Brogan:    Keep  your  tongue  quiet,  you  fool! 

Canary:  I  hear  your  voice,  James  Brogan. 
I  am  not  without  a  message  to  yourself. 

Brogan:  Some  lie  you  have  made  up.  Who  is 
there  in  the  living  world  would  go  send  me  a 

message  in  this  place  ? 

Canary:  You  will  know  who  sent  it,  hearing  it. 
It  was  given  to  me  but  now. 

Brogan:  There  was  no  one  came  in  or  went 
out.  I  swear  to  that. 

Canary:  It  failed  you  to  see  her;  but  she  was 
here. 

Brogan:  (Uneasily.)  She  .  .  .  What  are  you 
saying?  What  are  you  talking  about ? 

Canary:  She  gave  me  this  message :  ' '  Were  you 
not  a  foolish  man,  James  Brogan,  to  knock  the 
ladder  from  under  me,  and  I  but  just  after  saying 
to  you  that  it  is  hard  to  quench  life!" 

Brogan:    She  did  not — she  could  not 

Canary:  You  know  well  who  it  was  spoke  that 
word.  Have  a  care!  She  is  maybe  not  far  from 
you. 

Brogan:  (Falling  on  his  knees  and  looking  at 
place  she  had  stood.)  I  give  my  faith  and  my 
solemn  oath,  Bride,  that  the  time  I  got  wild  and 
faced  you  I  never  thought  to  leave  a  hand  on  you, 


220  Shanwalla 

to  kill  you,  but  only  to  put  fear  on  you,  the  way 
you  would  not  tell  on  me,  and  but  to  quiet  you 
for  a  while! 

Darcy:  Do  you  understand  what  you  are  say- 
ing? 

Brogan:  "Living  or  dead  I'll  be  against  you," 
you  said,  and  I  threatening  to  do  injury  to  your 
man.  And  if  it  was  for  my  own  profit  I  did  in  jury- 
to  what  he  had  in  charge,  it  is  for  your  own  sake 
I  put  a  revenge  on  him  and  strove  to  destroy  him 
and  to  bring  him  down!  (Holds  out  his  arms 
towards  door.)  Are  you  gone  from  me  now  and 
for  ever !  Oh,  Bride,  you  were  always  against  me, 
and  you  are  against  me  yet,  and  it  is  through  you  I 
will  give  myself  up  to  the  Judge  and  will  go  to  my 
punishment  as  it  is  well  I  have  earned  it!  (The 
two  policemen  stand  at  each  side  of  him  as  he  stands 
up,  and  lead  him  and  0' Motley  to  door.) 

Canary:  (To  Scarry.)  Surely  God  has  some 
great  hand  in  you,  giving  leave  to  the  woman  to 
keep  her  promise  for  your  help.  And  didn't  she 
behave  well,  coming  challenging  through  myself 
your  enemies  in  the  court,  the  way  you  got  over 
them  all,  and  you  so  near  your  last  goal! 

Scarry:  Through  you  is  it  ?  Stop  your  raving. 
She  to  have  left  her  standing  in  Heaven  it  is  not 
with  you  she  would  have  come  speaking,  or  with 
any  one  at  all  only  myself! 


Shanwalla  221 

Darcy:  It  is  a  good  thought  he  had  facing  them. 
But  it's  no  wonder  he  to  be  apt  at  riddles,  there  is 
great  wit  and  great  wisdom  in  the  blind.  And 
it's  little  he  could  have  done  for  you,  Larry,  but 
for  knowing  that  I  myself  was  on  your  side. 

Constable:  (To  the  two  Policemen.)  I'm  full 
sure  the  beggar  was  in  league  with  them  and  knew 
their  secrets,  and  turned  on  them  and  betrayed 
them  for  his  own  safety,  seeing  me  searching  out 
the  matter  to  the  root. 

2nd  Policeman:  I  never  heard  in  my  time  a 
spirit  to  give  any  aid  to  the  law  or  to  the  police. 

ist  Policeman:  There's  nothing  in  the  world 
more  ignorant  then  to  give  any  belief  to  ghosts.  I 
am  walking  the  world  these  twenty  years,  and 
never  met  anything  worse  than  myself ! 


NOTES  TO  SHANWALLA 

Some  time  ago  I  was  looking  through  many  stories 
told  me  on  our  countryside  and  given  by  me  later  in 
Visions  and  Beliefs,  bearing  witness  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  presence  of  the  dead,  of  spirits 
invisible,  for  here  in  Connacht  there  is  no  doubt  as 
to  the  continuance  of  life  after  death;  the  spirit  wan- 
ders for  a  while  in  that  intermediate  region  to  which 
mystics  and  theologians  have  given  various  names. 
But  I  felt  doubtful  as  to  using  them;  I  hesitated  to 
put  them  before  an  audience  used  to  close  reasoning 
and  the  presentation  of  proved  facts.  I  feared  they 
might  be  found  inconclusive,  trivial,  meaningless. 
But  it  happened  the  next  day  as  I  was  driving  to 
church  with  one  dear  to  me  and  now  gone  from  me  we 
were  talking  of  kindred  matters  and  he  said,  "I  have 
no  doubt  at  all  there  will  be  a  return  to  intuition  as  in 
primitive  days.  Reason  took  its  place,  and  reason 
was  seized  on  with  passion  by  the  Greeks  as  a  new 
force  to  be  used  in  every  possible  field  and  way.  But 
now  it  has  gone  as  far  as  it  can  go,  it  has  ceased  to 
interest,  to  satisfy;  it  is  to  intuition  we  must  turn  for 
new  discoveries." 

I  said  then  to  myself  that  my  countryside  tales  are 
justified.  These  people  of  lonely  bogs  and  hillsides 
have  still  their  intuition,  their  sensitiveness  to  the 

222 


Shanwalla  223 

unseen;  they  do  not  reason  about  it,  they  accept  it  as 
simply  as  they  do  the  sighing  of  the  west  wind  or  the 
colour  of  the  sky.  I  believe  that  what  they  feel  and 
relate  is  perhaps  of  as  great  importance  to  that  in  us 
which  is  lasting,  as  the  tested  results  of  men  of  science 
examining  into  psychic  things.  For  none  have  yet 
been  certainly  aware  of  much  more  than  shadows  upon 
a  veil,  vague,  intangible,  yet  making  the  certainty 
clearer  every  day  that  when  the  veil  is  rent  for  us  at 
our  passing  away,  or  made  thinner  for  us  during  our 
stay  in  this  world,  it  is  not  death  but  life  that  is  to  be 
discovered  beyond  it. 

But  as  to  proof  of  the  return,  "How  shall  they 
believe  if  one  rose  from  the  dead?"  When  I  was 
working  at  this  play,  where  the  spirit  of  the  wife 
returns,  imperceptible  indeed  to  the  Court  where  she 
gives  her  message,  yet  able  to  give  it  and  so  to  save 
her  man,  reason  told  me  that  all  in  that  Court  should  be 
convinced,  that  Magistrate  and  husband  and  officials 
would  go  on  their  knees  in  prayer,  or  call  out  their 
belief  in  this  triumph  of  one  of  "the  cloud  of  Wit- 
nesses." But  when  it  came  to  writing  the  scene,  I 
suppose  it  was  either  intuition  or  experience  that  took 
the  pen  and  brought  it  to  its  present  end. 

I  was  talking  in  a  Venice  salon  one  evening  with  a 
well-known  English  artist  and  a  German  Admiral. 
The  artist  told  us  she  had  once  been  dining  in  Kensing- 
ton Palace  with  a  Royal  Princess,  and  after  dinner  as 
they  were  going  upstairs  she  was  left  alone  for  a  mo- 
ment and  a  clear  voice  said  from  below, ' '  Who  is  there  ? ' ' 


224  Shanwalla 

She  was  surprised  at  anyone  thus  calling  out  in  such  a 
place,  and  the  Princess  came  running  back,  looking 
scared,  and  said  "Did  you  hear  anything?"  "And 
when  I  told  her,  the  Princess  said,  'Yes,  others  have 
heard  it  too;  it  is  George  the  IVth.'"  This  happened 
in  Kensington  Palace,  and  the  spirit  was  that  of 
a  King.  But  the  German  Admiral,  the  Reasoner, 
said  "Ach,  we  hear  sthories  of  ghosts,  and  they  are 
got  up  by  people  that  want  to  keep  the  place  for 
shmuggling!" 


THE  WRENS 


IS  225 


PERSONS 

THE  PORTER 
KIRWAN'S  SERVANT 
CASTLEREAGH'S  SERVANT 
WILLIAM  HEVENOR  )  Oi    „ . 
MARGY  HEVENOR       Strollmg  Smgers 


226 


THE  WRENS 

Time:    January  22nd,  1799. 

Scene:    Outside  House  of  Commons,  Dublin.   Porter 
at  top  of  steps.    Kirwan's  servant  arriving. 

Kirwan's  Servant:    Fine  morning. 

Porter:    Middling ;  for  January. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  Are  they  making  speeches 
yet? 

Porter:  They  are.  Arguing  and  debating, 
Lords  and  Commons,  through  night  and  through 
dawn,  till  they  have  the  world  talked  upside  down. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  I  suppose  nearly  the  most 
of  them  is  in  it? 

Porter:  What  there  isn't  of  them  you  wouldn't 
miss  out  of  it,  unless  it  might  be  your  own  master, 
Mr.  Kirwan. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  He  quitted  the  House  after 
his  big  speech.  He  laid  down  to  them  a  good  line 
of  talk. 

Porter:  He  got  over  all  his  enemies  in  that 
speech. 

227 


228  The  Wrens 

Kirwaris  Servant:  He  did,  and  the  enemies  of 
Ireland.  They  are  as  good  as  put  down  altogether. 
He'll  be  coming  back  in  a  while's  time. 

Porter:  Why  wouldn't  he,  and  the  vote  to  be 
taken  yet  ?  He's  a  man  that  has  no  mix  in  him. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  Around  in  the  attorney's 
office  he  is,  writing  out  documents  to  go  by  mes- 
sengers to  England  so  soon  as  the  bill  will  be 
thrown  out.  He  bade  me  to  go  call  him  at  the 
time  the  vote  will  be  coming  on. 

Porter:  It  will  not  be  long  till  that  time.  The 
speeches  should  be  at  their  last  goal. 

Kirwarfs  Servant:  (Going  to  door.)  I'll  take  my 
station  here.  So  soon  as  they'll  start  to  clap  the 
bell  I'll  go  warn  him.  Though  it's  likely  his  one 
vote  won't  be  hardly  needed,  with  all  that  will  be 
against  the  bill. 

Porter.  Maybe  so.  It's  hard  say.  It  being  to 
be  it  will  be. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  There  is  no  man  is  honest 
and  is  straight  but  will  give  his  voice  against  it. 

Porter:  It's  hard  know  what  might  happen 
from  when  we  get  up  in  the  morning  to  when  we 
go  to  bed  at  night ;  or  half  that  time. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  Here  is  Lord  Castlereagh's 
servant  coming  to  gather  news  for  his  master — 


The  Wrens  229 

my  black  curse  on  him — that  is  one  of  the  old  boy's 
comrades ! 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  (Coming  in.)     Fine  day! 

Kirwan's  Servant:  It  will  be  a  better  day  inside 
an  hour's  space,  when  the  bill  for  the  Union  with 
England  will  be  defeated  and  thrown  out.  My 
joy  go  with  it  in  a  bottle  of  moss!  If  it  never 
comes  back  it  is  no  great  loss ! 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  If  it  is  it  will  be  because 
there's  more  fools  than  wise  men  within  the  walls 
of  that  house. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  It  is  what  you're  thinking 
that  your  master  has  the  whole  county  bought. 
But  let  me  tell  you  that  he  has  not.  It  would  take 
a  holy  lot  to  do  that ! 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  There  is  no  person  hav- 
ing sense  but  would  wish  to  be  within  the  Empire 
of  England. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  He  would  not,  unless  he 
would  come  of  a  bad  tribe  and  a  bad  family,  and 
would  be  looking  for  a  pension  for  his  vote. 

Porter:  It  might  be  so.  Money  does  every- 
thing in  the  worst  possible  way. 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  (To  Porter.)  You'll  be  apt 
to  lose  your  own  job  of  standing  on  the  thrassel  of 
that  door,  and  the  Parliament  to  be  housed  over 


230  The  Wrens 

in  London.  It  would  be  best  for  you  while  you 
have  time  shift  over  to  our  side.  (Shows  him  a 
purse  and  shakes  it.} 

Porter:  I  don't  know.  Someway  foreign  money 
doesn't  go  far. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  (Sarcastically.}  What  will 
he  divide  on  you  so?  Why  wouldn't  you  wish  to 
be  made  a  Lord?  Or  ask  a  County  Court  judge- 
ship,  and  your  wife  to  be  flying  hats  and  feathers. 
Have  you  any  knowledge  of  the  law  ? 

Porter:  More  than  the  most  of  them!  I  am 
well  able  to  administer  an  oath. 

Castlereagh's  Servant  to  Kirwan's:  There  is  no 
one  against  the  bill  but  some  that  are  like  your- 
selves not  having  learning  and  that  don't  travel. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  There  are,  and  noble  and 
high-blooded  people  are  against  it!  Languaged 
people  that  can  turn  history  to  their  own  hand ! 

Porter:  They  might  not.  To  be  supple  with 
the  tongue  is  not  all. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  I  tell  you  the  most  thing  in 
the  mighty  world  could  not  save  that  bill  from 
being  thrown  out  and  refused ! 

Porter:  It's  hard  say.  There  was  no  great 
strength  in  the  wrens  that  destroyed  Ireland  the 
time  they  went  picking  crumbs  on  a  drum,  and 
wakened  up  the  army  of  the  Danes. 


The  Wrens  231 

Kirwan's  Servant:    And  what  sort  is  it  you  are 
thinking  will  destroy  the  liberties  of  Ireland  this 
day?     Is  it  that  couple  of  raggedy  strollers  are 
disputing  along  the  side  path  of  the  Green? 
(Enter  Hevenor  and  Margy,  disputing.) 

Margy:  (Pushing  Hevenor.)  Bad  cess  to  you 
bringing  me  foraging  around,  running  and  wander- 
ing, by  roads  and  cross  roads,  by  hedges  and  by 
walls,  the  cold  and  the  slashing  rain  upon  me! 
There's  no  stay  in  you  but  as  if  you  were  a  wild 
duck.  From  country  to  country  it  goes. 

Hevenor:  Well  for  me  if  I  had  its  wings!  To 
stop  in  the  one  place  with  your  talk  at  me  and  your 
prating,  I'd  as  soon  be  in  the  body  of  a  gaol! 

Margy:  I  to  have  nothing  of  my  own,  or  a 
skirt  that  would  bring  me  to  the  church,  no  more 
than  a  dog  or  a  sow ! 

Hevenor:  That  is  lies  you  are  telling  and  you 
owning  by  marriage  a  good  man  that  is  myself! 

Margy:  I  could  have  had  great  marriages  if  I 
didn't  choose  you,  and  many  wondered  at  me ! 

Hevenor:  Be  easy  now!  It's  too  much  you 
have  to  say.  It  would  take  twenty  to  keep  you 
in  chat ! 

Margy:  And  I  dreaming  the  day  I  wed  with 
you  of  little  houses  as  white  as  snow,  and  a  bunch 
of  keys  in  my  hand ! 


232  The  Wrens 

Hevenor:    Ah,  you're  entirely  too  lavish  in  talk. 

Margy:  My  old  fathers  that  had  stock  and 
land,  and  the  bacon  over  their  head.  And  what 
am  I  myself  but  a  holy  show  by  the  side  of  the 
road?  To  bring  me  singing  through  the  streets, 
that  is  the  last  thing  of  all.  God  help  the  poor! 
The  rich  can  rob  around. 

Hevenor:  Hold  your  whisht,  can't  you?  There 
is  grand  people  up  at  that  door. 

Margy:  English  they  should  be  by  the  rich 
clothes  of  them.  They  are  your  business.  Let 
you  word  out  a  Government  song. 

Hevenor:  (Sings.) 

A  song  for  Britain  and  her  sons, 

A  song  of  harmony, 

And  now  and  ever  let  it  breathe 

Of  truth  and  loyalty. 

Its  theme  the  same  where'er  we  be, 

Her  palace  isle  we'll  sing, 

The  laurels  and  the  victory 

Of  Britain  and  the  King ! 

Castlereagh's  Servant:  That's  very  good!  The 
whole  country  is  turning  to  join  with  Britain,  the 
hungry  as  well  as  the  high  up. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  (Threatening  Hevenor.)  Get 
out  of  this  with  your  bawling,  if  it  fails  you  to 
sing  straight  and  sing  honest ! 


The  Wrens  233 

Hevenor:    I  am  singing  honest. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  You  are  not,  but  for  profit 
and  gain. 

Hevenor:  Amn't  I  a  Catholic?  Why  wouldn't 
I  go  with  the  Bishops  and  the  Clergy? 

Castkreagh's  Servant:  They  have  sense,  coming 
to  our  side. 

Hevenor:  Sure  the  Government  has  them 
promised  that  the  Parliament  to  change  over  to 
London,  there'll  be  Catholic  Emancipation  on  the 
minute! 

Kirwan's  Servant:    I  never  could  believe  in  lies ! 
Hevenor:    That's  my  hearing  of  the  thing. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  I  wouldn't  believe  it  from 
the  Pope! 

Margy:  That's  what  I  do  be  telling  him  myself 
— England  is  all  promise  and  no  pay. 

Hevenor:  What  did  my  own  Bishop  put  out 
down  in  Mayo?  "Let  us  join,"  says  he,  "with 
the  British,"  says  he,  "that  are  the  wisest,  the 
freest  and  the  happiest  people  on  the  whole  face  of 
the  earth!" 

Margy:  Ah,  he  is  but  in  dread  of  corner  boys 
like  yourself  joining  strikes  and  setting  themselves 
up  against  the  Pope  the  same  as  those  lads  out  in 
France. 


234  The  Wrens 

Hevenor:  "For  self  and  clergy,"  says  he,  "we 
will  stand  and  fall  with  the  British." 

Margy:  What  will  stand  will  be  on  the  other 
side,  and  what  will  fall  will  be  on  this  side !  It  is 
England  will  get  the  cream  and  leave  us  the  broken 
milk. 

Hevenor:  No,  but  we  being  paired  and  wedded 
with  the  Sassenach,  we'll  be  full  and  easy  like 
themselves. 

Margy:  To  be  banishing  away  reared  people 
to  be  playing  skittle-alley  out  in  London!  That 
wijl  give  the  country  no  fair  play. 

Hevenor:  Showing  kindness  and  sharing  wealth 
the  same  as  the  children  of  one  house ! 

Margy:  What  a  fool  I  am !  Doesn't  the  world 
know  the  English  to  be  hard  and  wicked  and  the 
Irish  fair  and  easy?  It  is  to  turn  Dublin  you 
would  to  be  but  a  little  village  of  houses  ? 

Hevenor:  Women  have  no  intellect  to  give  out 
such  things ;  great  voice  and  little  head ! 

Margy:  I  would  not  to  gain  the  big  world 
entirely  give  leave  to  the  Parliament  to  shift  over 
out  of  this  so  much  as  nine  lengths  of  a  cow's  tail! 
London  is  entirely  too  thronged.  As  many  people 
as  you'd  see  wheat  in  a  field.  How  would  we  get 
our  own  handling  and  our  way? 


The  Wrens  235 

Hevenor:  It's  a  bad  way  we  are  getting  up  to 
this! 

Margy:  A  great  wonder  the  Lord  to  stand  the 
villainy  is  in  it !  The  English  are  the  worst  people 
under  the  rising  sun.  With  what  sort  is  it  you  are 
wishful  to  mingle  and  join,  after  God  Himself 
putting  out  His  hand  to  banish  snakes  and  serpents 
out  of  Ireland? 

Hevenor:  There  is  plenty  of  that  class  in  it  yet 
ready  to  ate  one  another. 

Margy:  We  might  ate  one  another  at  some 
times,  but  they'd  ate  the  whole  of  us! 

Hevenor:  Too  much  of  quarrelling  and  slander- 
ing. It  is  time  for  us  live  in  peace. 

Margy:  Ah,  for  ten  thousand  years  Ireland 
was  fighting  and  what  would  ail  her  to  stop  at  this 
time? 

Hevenor:  It  is  the  power  of  England  will  put 
down  your  pride,  and  the  law  of  the  Union  passed. 

Margy:  If  they  do  pass  it  no  one  would  be 
forced  to  obey  it.  It  is  a  good  man  said  that. 

Hevenor:  Them  that  said  it  will  be  put  down  as 
rebels. 

Margy:  It  is  rebels  in  good  clothes  will  be  put 
down  that  time  in  place  of  rebels  in  frieze.  It  is 
all  rebels  we'll  be  together,  the  Lord  be  praised! 


236  The  Wrens 

I  tell  you  I  to  suckle  20,000  sons,  I'd  rear  them  the 
same  as  Hannibal ! 

Kirwaris  Servant:  Good  woman!  That  is 
right  talk! 

Hevenor:  (To  Castlereagh' s  Servant.)  It  is  eman- 
cipation she  begrudges  us,  and  we  to  be  equal  with 
the  Protestants. 

Margy:  (To  Kirwan's  Servant.}  All  the  laws 
of  England  would  not  make  you  the  equal  of  my- 
self! I  never  will  give  in  to  be  reduced  to  a 
Catholic ! 

Hevenor:  (To  Castlereagh' s  Servant.)  Isn't  she 
the  great  Protestant  with  her  high  notions? 

Margy:  If  I  am,  it's  in  the  shadow  of  a  Protes- 
tant house  I  was  reared,  and  a  good  house.  Wasn't 
my  grandmother  hen-woman  to  the  Duke  of 
Leinster?  God  be  with  my  poor  Lord  Edward, 
the  best  that  ever  ate  the  world's  bread!  It's 
often  she  roasted  an  egg  in  the  ashes  for  him  and 
he  in  his  young  age.  It  is  for  himself  she's  wearing 
a  black  ribbon  on  this  day,  tied  around  the  frill 
of  her  cap.  It's  myself  will  sing  him  through  the 
three  parishes. 
(Sings.) 
We'll  arm  ourselves  for  God  is  good  and  blesses 

them  who  lean 
On  their  brave  hearts  and  not  upon  an  earthly 

king  or  queen ; 


The  Wrens  237 

And  freely  as  we  lift  our  hands  we  vow  our  blood  to 

shed 
Till  in  some  day  to  come  the  green  will  flutter  o'er 

the  red ! 

Kirwari's  Servant:  More  power  to  you,  Ma'am ! 
That  every  day  may  thrive  with  you !  (Gives  money.) 

Hevenor:  (To  Castlereagh1  s  Servant.)    Give  my- 
self some  little  coin  into  my  hand,  your  honour, 
and  I'll  give  out  a  good  verse  for  the  Union. 
(Sings.) 

11  The  laurels  and  the  victories 
Of  Britain  and  the  King;" 

Castlereagh 's  Servant:    I'll  do  that  much  for  you. 
(Puts  hand  in  pocket  and  takes  out  money.} 

Margy:  (Pushing  back  his  hand.)  Do  not  give 
it  to  himself  but  to  me !  Everything  he  will  handle 
he  will  drink  it. 

Hevenor:  I'm  no  good  when  I'm  in  my  sense 
and  in  my  mind.  But  when  I  have  a  drop  taken, 
it's  then  I  will  bring  out  the  songs. 

Margy:  He  had  enough  taken  yesterday  to 
last  him  to  the  world's  end!  Going  to  public 
houses  in  company  does  not  answer  him.  The 
drink  does  but  drive  out  his  wits. 

Hevenor:  It's  to  put  a  good  mouth  on  herself 
she  says  that.  She  pretends  to  be  proud,  and 
reflects  on  me. 


238  The  Wrens 

Margy:  When  they  get  themselves  into  a  habit 
it  is  hard  for  them  get  out  of  it  after ! 

Hevenor:  That  you  may  never  have  the  price 
of  your  shroud!  That  one  would  begrudge  so 
much  as  bog  water  out  of  a  tea-cup. 

Margy:  Whatever  class  of  drink  he  took  last 
night,  what  way  did  he  get  the  price  of  it  but  to 
bring  away  and  to  put  in  pawn  my  stuffed  pin- 
cushion. When  I  cast  it  up  to  him  after  he  was 
breaking  his  heart  laughing. 

Hevenor:     I  did  but  lighten  her  travelling  load! 

Margy:  My  pincushion  I  got  from  the  minis- 
ter's wife  and  I  a  child  rising  up.  The  first  little 
stick  of  furniture  ever  I  had,  and  I  bringing  it 
from  road  to  road  till  such  time  as  I'll  get  a  little 
table  to  put  it  on,  and  a  room  would  hold  the  table, 
and  the  bed;  and  a  little  kitchen  along  with  it,  the 
way  I'd  be  in  Heaven  having  a  little  place  of  my 
own. 

Ifevenor:  You'll  never  be  in  Heaven  or  within 
fifteen  mile  of  it ! 

Margy:  So  much  as  the  image  of  a  farthing  he 
never  leaves  it  in  my  hand.  Give  him  the  pledge 
against  drink.  That's  the  only  best  thing  to  do. 
He  is  a  young  fellow  that  has  no  understanding. 

Hevenor:  That  the  Almighty  may  make  you  a 
worthy  woman ! 


The  Wrens  239 

Margy:  So  wild  and  arch  as  he  is  he's  no  good 
for  the  world  only  drinking.  You  to  give  him  a 
pint  he'd  ask  to  go  inside  in  the  barrel. 

Hevenor:  So  stubborn  as  you  are !  Would  you 
downf ace  me ! 

(Hevenor  sheltering  behind  Castlereagh  s  Ser- 
vant, Margy  trying  to  get  at  him.} 

Margy:  To  make  a  trade  of  it  he  does.  He'll 
drink  the  devil  into  him. 

Hevenor:  She  is  such  a  terrible  barge  you 
couldn't  stand  against  her.  (To  Castlereagh' s  Ser- 
vant.) Give  me  the  bit  of  silver  in  my  hand  and 
I'll  go! 

Margy:  Do  not  till  such  time  as  he  will  have 
the  pledge  taken ! 

Castlereagh  s  Servant:    Will  you  take  it  so? 

Hevenor:  I'm  too  well  pledged  before  this, 
being  pledged  to  herself ! 

Castlereagh  s  Servant:  Take  it  now.  I '11  get  you 
good  custom  for  your  songs.  You'll  be  of  use  to 
me,  coaxing  and  turning  rebels  to  the  side  of  my 
master. 

Kirwaris  Servant:  Don't  mind  doing  that,  but 
take  the  oath  against  drink  and  live  peaceful  with 
the  good  woman  at  your  side. 

Hevenor:   It  is  likely  it  would  fail  me  to  hold  to  it. 


240  The  Wrens 

Castlereagtt 's  Servant:  Take  it  to  St.  Bridget's 
Day,  that  is  but  nine  days  from  this. 

Hevenor:  I  would  feel  that  much  time  too  long 
in  passing. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  (Sneeringly.)  Take  it  so  till 
the  Union  bill  will  be  thrown  out,  and  that  will  be 
inside  of  a  few  hours. 

Margy:  That's  no  use!  That  much  is  not 
worth  while. 

Hevenor:  It  will  be  worth  while  if  I  think  it  to 
be  worth  while. 

Margy:    I'd  as  lief  he  not  to  take  it  at  all. 

Hevenor:  In  troth  I'll  take  it  if  I  have  a  mind 
to  take  it. 

Castkreagh's  Servant:  (To  Porter.}  Give  him  the 
oath  as  you  are  able,  and  make  an  end  of  it. 

Porter:  Wait  till  I'll  get  the  book.  (Goes  in  at  door.) 

Hevenor:  I  don't  know.  I  never  took  a  book 
in  my  hand  to  swear  this  or  that. 

Margy:  It's  best  for  you  wait  till  such  time  as 
you'll  get  a  fright,  or  a  vision  of  the  bones  of  death, 
and  take  the  oath  in  earnest. 

Porter:  (Coming  out.)     Kiss  the  book. 

Hevenor:  Give  it  here  to  me!  (Snatches  and 
kisses  it.) 


The  Wrens  241 

Porter:  Word  this  now  after  me.  (Hevenor 
repeats  it  after  him.}  "I  will  touch  no  drop  of 
drink,  or  anything  you'd  call  drink,  until  such 
time  as  the  Union  bill  now  within  in  that  house 
will  be  thrown  out  and  rejected  and  beat!  So 
help  me  God!"  (Takes  book  back  into  house.} 

Hevenor:  I  took  it  now  in  spite  of  you.  Any 
man  to  offer  me  a  glass  of  whiskey  I'd  sooner  he  to 
give  me  a  clout  on  the  head ! 

Castlereagh 's  Servant:    Where  now  is  the  song? 

Hevenor:  (Sings.) 
1 '  United  with  Britain  may  Erin  for  ever 

In  commerce,  in  arts,  and  in  science  advance; 
United  with  Britain  may  Ireland  for  ever 

Live  mighty  and  free,  independent  of  France !" 

Margy:  (To  Kirwarfs  Servant.}  It's  much  that 
he  does  not  pull  down  that  green  flag,  and  it  having 
King  David's  harp  on  it  and  the  picture  of  an 
angel  on  its  front ! 

Hevenor:  Give  me  the  bit  of  silver  in  my  hand 
now,  your  honour,  where  I  have  it  well  earned. 

Castlereagh1  s  Servant:    There  it  is  for  you. 

Hevenor:  That's  a  valiant  lot  of  money !  That 
you  may  reign  long ! 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  Follow  on  now  with  that 
song. 

16 


242  The  Wrens 

Hevenor:  (Tries  and  clears  throat.}  Checking 
that  one  and  her  arguments  has  put  a  sort  of  a 
foggy  mist  in  my  throat.  I  must  go  banish  it  with 
a  small  drop  of  porter. 

Margy:  Porter !  You  have  no  leave  to  touch 
that,  and  you  having  the  pledge  taken. 

Hevenor:  Ah,  won't  the  bill  be  cast  out  before 
I  will  get  to  the  drink  house  ? 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:    It  might  not. 

Plevenor:  (Pointing  to  Kirwan's  Servant.}  That 
one  has  it  promised  me  it  will. 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  Little  he  knows.  It 
might  never  be  thrown  out  at  all. 

Kirwan's  Servant:    I  tell  you  it  will  be ! 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  There  is  bets  on  it  going 
through. 

Kirwaris  Servant:  Wait  till  you'll  see!  I'll 
bet  you  a  golden  guinea  it  is  out  it  will  go! 

Hevenor:  And  must  I  keep  from  the  drink  that 
not  to  happen? 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  You  took  that  oath,  sure 
enough.  You  cannot  rise  out  of  it  now. 

Hevenor:  So  I  did,  God  forgive  me.  (Turns  to 
Margy.}  You  are  the  worst  head  to  a  man  ever  I 
saw,  giving  me  leave  to  do  that ! 


The  Wrens  243 

Margy:  You  have  the  money  in  your  hand  to 
lay  out  in  some  better  way. 

Hevenor:  I  wouldn't  handle  a  halfpenny  be- 
longing to  him,  and  I  as  wise  then  as  I  am  now! 
Where  is  the  use  of  it  and  it  not  bringing  me  my 
heart's  desire? 

Margy:  It  will  maybe  not  rise  you  out  of  your 
senses  this  time ! 

Hevenor:  I  to  be  bare  empty  I  would  say 
nothing,  but  wealth  to  be  in  my  hand  and  there  to 
be  no  frolic  or  pleasure  in  it,  it  is  that  is  killing  me 
entirely. 

Castlereagh's  Servant:  It's  an  enemy  to  himself 
that  will  turn  back  to  drink  that  is  the  misfortune 
of  all. 

Hevenor:  Silver  crowns  in  my  hand,  and  I 
maybe  to  lay  myself  down  this  night  as  innocent 
and  as  timid  as  a  coney  of  the  rocks,  never  felt 
the  power  of  still-whiskey ! 

Margy:  He'll  be  turning  to  it  again,  and  the 
pledge  loosened,  as  sure  as  there's  folly  in  a 
fool. 

Hevenor:  If  I  had  but  thought  to  take  my  fill 
before  they  knocked  a  promise  out  of  me.  Music 
that  would  be  going  a-through  me,  and  a  poet's 
wreath  around  my  head!  Kindness  in  my  heart 


244  The  Wrens 

that  I  would  forgive  the  whole  world,  and  it  after 
thrusting  me  from  its  door ! 

Margy:  It  is  fighting  it  would  be  more  apt  to 
leave  you. 

Hevenor:  It  might — the  drink  is  very  lively. 
Attacking  colour  sergeants  and  officers  and  gener- 
als! And  I  having  but  a  little  wattle  of  a  stick 
and  they  with  all  the  guns  of  Buonaparty !  It  is  to 
hold  the  gap  of  battle  I  would  the  same  as  Brian 
Boru!  (Sings.) 

"On  Clontarf  he  like  a  lion  fell,  thousands  plunged 

in  their  own  gore ; 

I  to  be  such  a  hero  now  I'd  ask  for  nothing 
more." 

Kirwarfs  Servant:  Ah,  what  are  you  making 
such  lamentations  over.  You  have  but  to  hold  to 
your  promise  till  the  Bill  is  cast  out  and  that  time 
will  be  short. 

Hevenor:    That  it  may  be  so ! 

CastlereagW  s  Servant:  What's  that  you're  say- 
ing? Sure  you're  on  the  side  of  the  Union. 

Hevenor:  I  was,  but  I  am  not.  I  made  another 
thought. 

Castlereagh's  Servant:  Is  it  that  you  are  for- 
getting about  Emancipation? 


The  Wrens  245 

Hevenor:  I  am  not.  It  is  of  my  own  emancipa- 
tion I  am  thinking. 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  Is  it  a  turncoat  you 
are? 

Hevenor:  I  amn't  condemning  anyone  down, 
but  I  wouldn't  give  an  inch  of  your  toe  for  the  man 
would  let  anything  interfere  with  his  own  liberty. 

Castlereagh's  Servant:  You  rap !  You  common 
rascal ! 

Hevenor:  Haven't  I  myself  to  mind  as  well  as 
another?  As  for  Lords  and  Commons,  before  I 
will  give  in  to  neglect  myself,  they  may  die  on  the 
side  of  the  road. 

Margy:  Ah,  you  tricker,  to  turn  around  for 
good  or  bad  as  quick  as  that !  It  is  I  myself  would 
not  do  a  thing  of  the  sort.  To  walk  honest  and 
walk  pure  is  my  way !  (Sings.} 

"I  have  a  leg  for  a  stocking, 
I  have  a  foot  for  a  shoe, 
I  have  a  kiss  for  a  croppy, 

And  down  with  the  orange  and  blue ! 
Out  with  Castlereagh  and  Pitt  and  the  Union!" 

Castlereagh's  Servant:  You  fool  of  a  woman! 
Don't  you  know  the  English  bill  to  be  cast  out 
your  man's  pledge  is  swept  along  with  it. 

Margy:    I  was  forgetting  that. 


246  The  Wrens 

Castlereagh' s  Servant:  Pitt  and  the  Government 
to  get  their  way  on  this  day,  he  is  bound  and  tied 
to  temperance  and  has  the  life  pledge  taken. 

Margy:    In  earnest? 

Castlereagh'' s  Servant:  A  sober  man  and  a  quiet 
man  at  your  side. 

Margy:  And  the  little  house  I'd  have?  And 
the  pincushion? 

Castlereagh'' s  Servant:    What's  to  hinder  you? 

Margy:  (Sings.) 

"I  have  a  foot  for  a  stocking, 

I  have  a  leg  for  a  shoe, 
I  have  a  kick  for  a  croppy, 

And  up  with  the  orange  and  blue!" 
(A  bell  rings  inside  door,  but  none  hear  it.} 

Kirwan's  Servant:  (Shaking  her.}  That  my 
curse  may  follow  you?  Shut  your  traitor  mouth! 
A  disgrace  you  are  to  the  world ! 

Margy:  Leave  go  of  me!  I  have  my  own 
business  to  mind. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  You  to  renage  that  was  call- 
ing out  this  very  minute  on  our  side ! 

Margy:    At  that  time  I  had  not  understanding. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  To  go  join  with  them  that 
would  send  Ireland  to  the  slaughter! 


The  Wrens  247 

Margy:  It  is  not  Ireland  I  have  in  charge.  It 
is  William  Hevenor  I  have  in  charge. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  To  go  bring  such  a  great 
stain  on  your  name  and  you  turning  against  the 
country's  friends ! 

Margy:  By  my  faith  it's  my  own  friend  I  have 
to  think  of,  and  not  of  the  other  breed! 

Kirwan's  Servant:  Can't  you  be  loyal  to 
Ireland  that  is  your  own  country  and  your  island  ? 

Margy:  So  I  am  loyal — to  my  man.  Every- 
thing should  be  done  beyond  measure  to  mind  him 
and  to  change  him  for  the  best.  If  I  wouldn't  be 
thanked  by  the  world  I  might  be  thanked  by  God. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  A  great  wonder  it  is,  Judas 
not  to  have  been  a  woman ! 

Margy:  If  you  had  a  hundred  in  family  a  hus- 
band is  the  nearest.  Isn't  it  better  to  me  Parlia- 
ments to  go  to  wrack  in  the  clouds  than  my  man 
to  go  live  blazing  drunk !  (Sings,) 

"Then  bumper  your  glasses,  to  George  drink  a 

health 

And   give   him   peace,   happiness,  honour,  and 
wealth!" 

Hevenor:  What's  that!  Let  you  quit  sounding  out 
that  song !  Is  it  that  you  are  singing  against  myself  ? 

Margy:    If  I  am  it's  for  your  good. 


248  The  Wrens 

Hevenor:    It's  I  can  sing  against  yourself  so. 
(Sings.) 

"Oh  the  French  are  on  the  Sea, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht ! 
Oh  the  French  are  on  the  Sea, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht ! 
Oh  the  French  are  in  the  Bay, 
They'll  be  here  without  delay, 
And  the  orange  will  decay, 
Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht!" 

Margy:  (Putting    hand    on    his    mouth.)     No, 
but  hearken!     (Sings.) 

"United  with  Britain  may  Erin  for  ever 

In  commerce,  in  arts,  and  in  science  advance; 
United  with  Britain  may  Erin  for  ever 

Live  mighty  and  free,  independent  of  France !" 

Hevenor:  (Breaking  jree  and  closing  her  mouth, 
sings.) 

"And  their  camp  it  shall  be  where, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht. 
Their  camp  it  shall  be  where, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht. 
On  the  Curragh  of  Kildare, 
The  boys  they  will  be  there 
With  their  pikes  in  good  repair, 

Says  the  Shan  Van  Vocht!" 
(She  throws  her  shawl  over  his  mouth.     They 
struggle  with  one  another.) 


The  Wrens  249 

Castlereagh 's  Servant:  I  bet  two  to  one  on  the 
woman ! 

Kirwarfs  Servant:  I  will  put  all  I  have  on  the 
man. 

(A    great    cheering    inside    House.    Porter 
comes  out  and  they  turn  and  see  him.} 

Come  over  here.  Where  were  you?  If  ever 
you  lost  sport  you  lost  it  today! 

Porter:  Do  you  hear  that  shouting  within  in 
the  House? 

Kirwaris  Servant:  What  is  it?  What  hap- 
pened? Is  it  time  for  the  vote? 

Porter:  The  vote  is  after  being  taken.  Where 
was  your  master? 

Kirwari's  Servant:  I  disremembered.  I  didn't 
call  to  him.  Listening  to  these  vagabonds — the 
curse  of  the  country  on  them.  I  didn't  feel  the 
time  passing.  It  cannot  be  the  bill  is  thrown  out  ? 

Porter:    It  is  gone  through. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  Gone  through!  That  was  a 
holy  crime.  I  thought  it  would  never  come  to  pass ! 

Porter:  Your  master,  Kirwan,  would  have 
saved  it.  It  was  but  got  through  by  one  vote. 

Kirwan's  Servant:  (Sitting  down  on  step.)  I 
have  a  great  wrong  done  him,  and  all  his  sweat 
lost !  His  heart  will  be  thrashed  with  this. 


250  The  Wrens 

Porter:  It's  no  blame  on  you  to  be  downcast. 
It's  this  House  will  be  lonesome  with  nothing  but 
its  own  pure  walls.  A  pity  it  to  be  brought  to  an 
end  when  its  hour  was  not  spent. 

Castlereagh's  Servant:  And  yourself  to  be  left 
bird  alone! 

("Rule,  Britannia,"  is  played  off.  He  takes 
down  Green  Flag  and  puts  up  Union 
Jack.  More  cheers  inside;  and  groans 
from  the  street.} 

Margy:  (To  Hevenor.}  Come  on  now  out  of  this. 

Hevenor:  I  never  enjoyed  a  worse  day.  There 
was  nothing  in  it  but  was  wrong. 

Margy:  No,  but  the  best  day  ever  came  before 
you.  We'll  have  great  comfort  in  the  bye-and-bye 
and  a  roof  to  put  over  the  child.  You'll  be  run- 
ning down  drink  from  this  out,  the  same  as  the  fox 
and  the  cherries.  Give  me  now  that  money  where 
you  will  not  put  it  astray  on  me  this  time.  We'll 
go  get  the  little  pincushion  out  of  pawn ! 


CURTAIN. 


NOTES  TO  THE  WRENS 

I  wrote  this  what  seems  a  long  time  ago,  before  the 
war,  and  in  looking  at  it  now  I  find  it  hard  to  get  into 
the  mood  in  which  I  wrote  it.  I  had  been  reading  the 
history  of  the  passing  of  the  Bill  for  the  Union  between 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  that  now,  in  this  year 
192 1 ,  seems  likely  to  be  undone.  This  is  how  its  story 
is  told  in  folk  lore: — "As  to  the  Union,  it  was  bought 
with  titles.  Look  at  the  Binghams  and  the  rest,  they 
went  to  bed  nothing,  and  rose  up  lords  in  the  morning. 
The  day  it  was  passed,  Lady  Castlereagh  was  in  the 
House  of  Parliament,  and  she  turned  three  colours, 
and  she  said  to  her  husband,  'You  have  passed  your 
treaty,  but  you  have  sold  your  country.'  He  went 
and  cut  his  throat  after  that.  And  it  is  what  is  said 
by  the  old  people,  there  was  no  priest  in  Ireland  but 
voted  for  it,  the  way  they  would  get  better  rights,  for 
it  was  only  among  poor  persons  they  were  going  at  that 
time.  And  it  was  but  at  the  time  of  the  Parliament 
leaving  College  Green  they  began  to  wear  the  Soutane 
that  they  wear  now." 

Book  history  tells  us  that  the  Bill  was  passed  on  its 
first  reading,  on  January  22,  1799,  by  only  one  vote; 

251 


252  The  Wrens 

and  my  little  play  imagines  the  losing  of  a  vote  that 
would  have  at  least  made  the  numbers  equal,  through 
so  slight  a  cause  as  a  quarrel  between  two  strolling 
vagabonds,  that  disturbs  the  attention  of  a  servant 
from  watching  the  moment  to  call  his  master,  who 
would  have  cast  his  vote  against  the  Bill. 

I  see  in  some  notes  made  before  the  writing  that  I 
had  planned  "a  human  comedy,  the  changing  of  sides 
of  man  and  wife,"  and  that  if  she  helps  to  a  victory  for 
the  over-Government  "to  bring  away  the  Parliament 
out  of  Ireland"  it  is  against  her  own  conviction,  and 
but  to  save  her  husband  from  drunkenness  and  gain  a 
home  for  herself,  and  that  in  so  doing  it  is  likely  she 
would  be  praised  by  moralists,  but  the  common  people 
would  put  their  curse  upon  her  and  him  as  they  have 
put  it  on  the  even  less  responsible  Wrens  that  lost 
Ireland  a  victory  through  awakening  the  Danish 
sentinels  by  pecking  at  the  crumbs  upon  their  drums. 

Sometimes  in  making  a  plan  for  a  play  I  set  th& 
scene  in  some  other  country  that  I  may  be  sure  the 
emotion  displayed  is  not  bounded  by  any  neighbour- 
hood but  is  a  universal  one.  And  I  see  upon  a  forgot- 
ten stray  page  that  the  persons  of  the  play  in  my  mind 
were  at  one  time  an  Athenian  who  is  for  the  victory 
of  his  city  and  quarrels  with  his  wife  who  belongs  to 
Sparta.  But  he  is  too  fond  of  the  wine  cup  to  be  of 
much  use  to  the  one  or  the  other  side,  and  hearing  that 
the  Spartans  are  at  the  very  gates  of  Athens  he  is 
persuaded  to  abstain  from  the  juice  of  grape  or  barley 
until  their  victory  is  declared,  and  this  he  is  assured, 
will  be  before  nightfall.  Then  the  wife  turns  round 


The  Wrens  253 

and  is  all  for  Athens  in  order  that  his  pledge  may  be 
forever  kept,  and  so  "they  work  against  each  other 
and  upset  each  others  plans  and  the  plans  of  others, 
and  she  is  said  to  be  '  A  good  woman  for  her  husband,' 
but  others  said  she  was  a  bad  woman  for  the  country. " 

Of  these  plays  The  Image  was  written  in  1909 — 
Shanwalla  and  The  Wrens  in  1914 — Hanrahan's  Oath 
in  1915.  They  were  all  produced  for  the  first  time  at 
the  Abbey  Theatre,  December  27,  1921.  The  days 
in  which  I  am  correcting  these  pages  are  anxious  ones, 
for  our  Treaty  of  Peace  with  England  is  yet  in  the 
balance,  or  as  an  old  man  has  just  said  to  me  "  on  the 
toss  of  a  button." 

And  the  Wrenboys  when  as  always  they  came 
yesterday,  St.  Stephen's  Day,  gave  but  little  of  the  old 
rhyme  about  that  disaster  remembered  against  the 
offending  wren  these  thousand  years,  but  sang  in  its 
place,  a  song  of  praise  for  Kevin  Barry,  the  boy  who 
was  but  last  year  "hanged  in  Mount  joy  Gaol,  for 
Ireland's  sake." 


Three  Wonder  Plays 

By 

Lady  Gregory 

Author  of  "Seven  Short  Plays,"  etc. 

The  Dragon)  Aristotle's  Bellows /  The  Jester, 
Of  the  first  of  these  amusing  new  plays,  a 
Dublin  critic  says: 

"Lady  Gregory  has  written  another  really 
funny  play  in  The  Dragon,  which  is  her  best 
since  The  Workhouse  Ward.  It  is  the  strang- 
est mixture  of  ancient  and  modern  fun  ever 
concocted,  and  only  Lady  Gregory  could 
piece  the  thing  together  and  make  it 
'stageable.'  I  have  not  heard  so  much 
genuine  hilarity  at  the  Abbey  for  years. 
There  are  no  dull  moments  in  this  strange 
conception." 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


Seven  Short  Plays 

By 

Lady  Gregory 

Author  of  "New  Comedies,"  "Our  Irish  Theatre,"  etc. 

12°. 

The  plays  in  this  volume  are  the  following: 
Spreading  the  News,  Hyacinth  Halvey,  The 
Rising  of  the  Moon,  The  Jackdaw,  The  Work" 
house  Ward,  The  Travelling  Man,  The  Gaol  Gate, 
The  volume  also  contains  music  for  the  songs  in 
the  plays  and  notes  explaining  the  conception  of 
the  plays. 

Among  the  three  great  exponents  of  the 
modern  Celtic  movement  in  Ireland,  Lady 
Gregory  holds  an  unusual  place.  It  is  she  from 
whom  came  the  chief  historical  impulse  which 
resulted  hi  the  re-creation  for  the  present 
generation  of  the  elemental  poetry  of  early 
Ireland,  its  wild  disorders,  its  loves  and  hates — • 
all  the  passionate  light  and  shadow  of  that  fierce 
and  splendid  race. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


Irish  Folk-History  Plays 

By 
LADY  GREGORY 


Lady  Gregory's  plays  "  never  fail  to  do  the  one  thing 
which  we  all  demand  from  a  play,  which  is  not,  as  stupid 
people  say,  to  amuse  us  (though  Lady  Gregory's  plays 
are  extremely  amusing) ,  but  to  take  us  out  of  ourselves 
and  out  of  London  and  out  of  the  stuffy  theater  while  we 
are  listening  to  them." — George  Bernard  Shaw. 

"Among  the  three  great  exponents  of  the  modern  Celtic 
movement  in  Ireland,  Lady  Gregory  holds  an  unusual 
place.  It  is  she  from  whom  came  the  chief  historical  im- 
pulse which  resulted  in  the  re-creation  for  the  present 
generation  of  the  elemental  poetry  of  early  Ireland,  its 
wild  disorders,  its  loves  and  hates — all  the  passionate 
light  and  shadow  of  that  fierce  and  splendid  race. 
.  .  .  Should  be  read  by  all  those  who  are  interested  in 
this  most  unusual  literary  movement  of  modern  times. 
Indeed  they  furnish  a  necessary  complement  to  the  over- 
fanciful  pictures  drawn  by  Mr.  Yeats  of  the  dim  morning 
of  Celtic  Song." — Springfield  Republican. 

"Lady  Gregory  has  kept  alive  the  tradition  of  Ireland 
as  a  laughing  country.  She  surpasses  the  others  in  the 
quality  of  her  comedy,  however,  not  that  she  is  more 
comic,  but  that  she  is  more  comprehensively  true  to  life. 
Lady  Gregory  has  gone  to  reality  as  to  a  cave  of  treasure. 
She  is  one  of  the  discoverers  of  Ireland.  Her  genius,  like 
Synge's,  seems  to  have  opened  its  eyes  one  day  and  seen 
spread  below  it  the  immense  sea  of  Irish  common  speech, 
with  its  color,  its  laughter,  and  its  music." — Nation. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 


New  Comedies 

By 
LADY  GREGORY 

The   Bogie   Men— The    Full    Moon— Coats 
Darner's  Gold — McDonough's  Wife 

5°.     With  Portrait  in  Photogravure 

The  pkys  have  been  acted  with  great  success 
by  the  Abbey  Company,  and  have  been  highly 
extolled  by  appreciative  audiences  and  an  en- 
thusiastic press.  They  are  distinguished  by  a 
humor  of  unchallenged  originality. 

One  of  the  plays  in  the  collection,  "Coats," 
depends  for  its  plot  upon  the  rivalry  of  two 
editors,  each  of  whom  has  written  an  obituary 
notice  of  the  other.  The  dialogue  is  full  of 
crisp  humor.  "McDonough's  Wife,"  another 
drama  that  appears  in  the  volume,  is  based  on  a 
legend,  and  explains  how  a  whole  town  rendered 
honor  against  its  will.  "  The  Bogie  Men  "  has  as 
its  underlying  situation  an  amusing  misunder- 
standing of  two  chimney-sweeps.  The  wit  and 
absurdity  of  the  dialogue  are  in  Lady  Gregory's 
best  vein.  "  Darner's  Gold  "  contains  the  story 
of  a  miser  beset  by  his  gold-hungry  relations. 
Their  hopes  and  plans  are  upset  by  one  they  had 
believed  to  be  of  the  simple  of  the  world,  but 
who  confounds  the  Wisdom  of  the  Wise.  "  The 
Full  Moon  "  presents  a  little  comedy  enacted  on 
an  Irish  railway  station.  It  is  characterized  by 
humor  of  an  original  and  delightful  character 
and  repartee  that  is  distinctly  clever. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


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